A Tale of Legendary Warlocks
by sfsf
Summary: Merlin's new life as Camelot's Court Sorcerer gets rather complicated with the arrival of a family of visiting nobles. Future!fic, companion to A Journey Destined A Journey Forgotten, but can be read as standalone. Spoilers for series 4
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: So, this is the companion fic to A Journey Destined A Journey Forgotten… though it can be read as a standalone. It is set about 2 years after season 4. The reveal has happened. I hope you all like it!**

**I want to thank my beta, Arwyn-t for her help. She is brilliant!**

**Enjoy…**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin, BBC and Shine Limited does**

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><p><strong>A tale of legendary warlocks<strong>

**Chapter 1**

The young warlock strolled down the pathways of the castle, whistling a happy little tune that he had caught up the other day when Gwaine had dragged him to the tavern. It was a lovely morning for herb picking in Merlin's opinion. Spring had finally arrived, the weather was beginning to warm up, the flowers and trees were blossoming. No better time for him to take a small break and spend a few hours out of the castle in the calming surroundings of the woods.

He turned left to enter the main hallway. Servants were busy coming and going, but nobody paid the warlock any attention. Queen Guinevere had decided the palace could do with a spring cleaning, and thus almost every single member of the king's household was occupied with scrubbing the floors, dusting the furniture or polishing wall-decorative armor whilst hanging precariously from said walls.

Though, to be honest, their not noticing Merlin might have something to do with the fact that currently the warlock was _in disguise_.

He was wearing a simple worn red tunic, brown breaches and a dirty blue neckerchief, with more holes in it than cheese. Adding an old torn leather satchel that hanged from his left shoulder and his outfit was complete.

As Arthur would say, if he caught glimpse of him now, he was in his manservant's costume once more.

Merlin resented that notion. His old clothes were definitely _not_ a costume. They were in fact very comfortable and practical. The added advantage of helping him blend in with the castle's staff was of minor convenience.

It had been almost six months since he had last got the chance to dress according to his own will. Ever since that fateful day, the one Gaius liked to call as _the day that prophesies finally came true,_ Merlin was required to concur with the proper attire of anoble man, much to Arthur's amusement and Gwen's genuine delight. The Queen found great joy in dressing up Merlin in a different official court sorcerer's tunic almost every week. He was fairly certain he now possessed the largest wardrobe any other sorcerer had ever had.

Only a few months and yet the differences in his everyday life were so colossal, that it could have easily been _years_.

But it was only one year ago when it had happened. One year since Arthur had discovered his secret and reacted in the worse way possible. By arresting and sentencing him to _death by pyre_. Merlin still shivered when he remembered those dark days of his imprisonment. It was only the memory of their journey to the future that had kept the warlock from losing his mind and helped him survive the ordeal. It had taken time, a lot of effort and even more tears, but in the end, Arthur had agreed to listen. For nearly three days, Merlin had sat on the cold stones of his cell's floor and had recounted every single time he had used his magic. Eventually, he was left with a hoarse throat and a broken friendship, but at least no death sentence. It took months for them to come close again, with Merlin being wounded from the way he was treated and Arthur being sorry for his actions but letting his king-sized ego get in the way of his apology. Ultimately, it was the surprising and life changing decision that Arthur had made to lift the ban of magic andhave Merlin promoted from manservant to first advisor and official sorcerer of the court that sorted the matters between the two. After that, they had slowly started going back to their normal, and rather co-dependent, relationship.

Some days, Merlin still woke up startled in his new quarters and had to pinch himself to make sure he wasn't still in a dream.

He went out through the main entrance, giving a brief nod of acknowledgement to the guards that were standing on either side, and then trailed down the path towards the outer walls.

Again, thanks to his old clothes, the court sorcerer of Camelot was able to pass discretely through the buzzing lower town and exit from the southeast gate almost completely unseen.

He kept walking, heading towards the tree line of the woods, revering in the calming sounds of the forest and the warm feeling the sun left on his skin. The forest trail wasn't very clear, having been left almost completely undisturbed throughout the past months of winter, so Merlin ended up strolling, lazily exploring the grounds, stopping from time to time to pick a herb or a root that he thought he could use for his experiments.

It was the most serene he had been in the last six months. Almost immediately after his promotion, Merlin had come to realize that being manservant to the king of Camelot and the court physician's apprentice while simultaneously saving everyone with his hidden magical talents was actually _a lot easier_ than his current position at court.

Now, not only was he in charge of every magical mishap that ever befell the kingdom, but he also had to deal with dozens of new laws being written, with old peace treaties being revised, with endless rows of emissaries from all across the land. And of course with almost every council member that was there from the magic-hating times of Uther and still treated him like he was about to turn the whole of Camelot into toads and then eat them raw or something equally disgusting.

Still, he wasn't one to complain. He knew very well how deeply Uther's hatred and fear for everything magical had been rooted in the minds of Camelot's people. The nobles were by far the worst. Where simple folks had been willing to give him a chance to prove to them that magic could be a force of good and came to gradually accept him, most nobles had and still did regard him with either fear or distain. Or both. Nothing that he did, no matter how much it was to the benefit of the kingdom and its people, was good enough for them. In their eyes he was an intruder to the court, a peasant sorcerer and a dangerous one at that.

Merlin was glad he was at least winning the hearts of the common people. They were the important ones, in his humble opinion. Not these arrogant old men that lived to lick the king's boots.

Arthur had noticed everything. He had managed to stay uncharacteristically calm about the whole issue for the first couple of months. In the end, it had taken a rather vulgar comment about Merlin's mother, coming from the mouth of one of the most powerful lords in the land during a council meeting, to make Arthur finally snap. After two days in the stocks, said nobleman was ordered -while he was still covered in rotten vegetables- to apologize to a newly titled _Lord_ Merlin, in front of the entire court. From then on everyone in the castle was obligated by law to address the young warlock as Lord Merlin. Merlin had yet to forgive Arthur about _that_.

That was why he needed this walk in the woods so desperately. He had claimed to be short of his stash of herbs, but in truth he could always buy them from the market, or borrow some from Gaius.

No, what he was actually short of was a break, a few hours of sleep and a good deal of unwinding.

By mid day, he reached a small clearing. He decided to rest under a tree for a while, before starting his way back to the castle. He made himself comfortable, took the meat pie he had managed to steal from the kitchen out of his pack and enjoyed a delicious snack.

He had just finished his meal when he heard the voices. The sounds came from his left and not from very far. Merlin had recognized his surroundings and knew for a fact that the main road to Camelot, at least the one that the merchants used more frequently, passed through a clearing not far from where he was.

Though they weren't alarming, nobody was screaming for help, Merlin could tell that there was something wrong with the travelers. Being his normal extremely curious self, he hurried up and followed the voices, making sure he stayed fairly hidden from their view.

He hadn't been walking for a minute when he came upon the clearing and the travelers.

It was a rather amusing sight. In the middle of the road was a large wooden carriage, with its left rear wheel stuck in a great puddle of mud. Two rather tired horses were tied to it, struggling to lift their heavy burden out to continue the journey. There were five men surrounding the carriage. Two of them were clearly servants and had the task of pushing the back of the coach, while the other three were obviously noblemen.

One of them was an older man, very short and with a long white beard that reminded Merlin of his Dragoon the Great escapades. He was talking rather vividly to a young boy, no more than fifteen years old, though from his hiding place Merlin couldn't make out what they were discussing. The last of the noblemen was obviously the man in charge, a middle aged gentleman who wore rich clothing and kept ordering the two servants to push, while he was trying to coordinate their efforts with the horses. If there was anyone else inside the carriage the young warlock couldn't possibly tell, for the doors were closed and small drapes decorated the windows, making it impossible to see inside.

After spending a minute to consider his options, Merlin decided to reveal himself and respectfully offer his assistance.

He stood up from where he was hiding behind a thick shrub and approached the party slowly, adopting his most innocent of expressions.

The two servants noticed him first, but did nothing more than nod in greeting. He dared to move closer, reaching the two arguing noblemen, the boy and the old man, who still weren't aware of his presence.

"Come, uncle. That is enough. It clearly isn't working…" said the young boy to his uncle.

"I am telling you, it should work. I have no idea what went wrong. It is a perfectly simple enchantment; anyone with my experience should be able to…"

The old man didn't have time to finish his sentence when the other noble, the middle aged man, approached them and raised a hand to gesture towards Merlin.

Merlin noticed that the old man's eyes went wide the minute he saw that they weren't alone. The young boy had also turned pale. Quickly, Merlin offered his hand, smiling, a universally known friendly gesture. The middle aged noble man regarded him composedly, taking in the poor state of Merlin's clothing and the bag of herbs he was carrying, but didn't make a move to take his -dirty- hand in greeting.

"Can we help you, stranger?" the nobleman said coldly.

"I was about to ask you the same, _sir_." Merlin answered him a little confused.

The nobleman raised his eyebrows indignantly while he replied.

"I am Lord Aegrid of Longsdale, and no, I doubt someone like _you_ could be of any assistance whatsoever."

It was an obvious dismissal from Lord Aegrid, so Merlin merely bowed to him, eyes full of amusement, though thankfully no one noticed. The young boy was watching him, certainly a lot calmer than before and the boy's uncle, the old man who had spoken of sorcery was once again concentrating on the wheel, mumbling incomprehensible strings of words under his breath.

It was clear to Merlin that they thought he was an ordinary peasant; well he _was_ a peasant until quite recently, though he had never in his life been anything but _extraordinary_. He considered the situation carefully. He could tell them he was the Court Sorcerer, by then the news had surely reached every corner of the five kingdoms, but then again he _could_ act like the fool they took him for and have some fun while he was at it.

It wasn't that much of a choice, really.

Merlin decided to take his chances with the boy first.

"Hey, you lot going to Camelot then?" he asked.

The boy looked towards Lord Aegrid, who wasn't paying any attention but was struggling with the horses once more, and answered eagerly.

"Yes, we are. We have been traveling for almost two days and now this happens. Do you happen to know how far away the Citadel is?"

"Well, actually I do."

"You do? That is excellent! Is it very far? How many hours do we have? I am Henry, by the way. Lord Aegrid is my father. And this is my uncle, master Driory."

The old man raised his head when he heard his name.

"Uncle, this man says he knows the way to Camelot!"

"Well, that isn't very impressive, my boy, considering that we are currently _standing_ on the road to Camelot," Driory replied. He looked towards Merlin with a bored expression. "I suppose you _are_ from Camelot, boy?" He asked.

"I am living there…" Merlin replied, avoiding the fact that he wasn't originally _from_ Camelot.

That made the boy jump with enthusiasm.

"You live in Camelot? Have you ever been inside the palace? How is it? Is King Arthur the most fearsome warrior of all? Have you ever seen him fight? I wanted to go to last year's tournament but father wouldn't let me. Have you seen the Queen? Or perhaps the Sor…" the boy stopped his excited chatter, eyes widening as if he'd almost let some secret slip.

The boy's uncle stepped in. "What Henry wants to ask but is unreasonably afraid to, is if you have seen the Court Sorcerer of Camelot. The one who claims to be Emrys."

It was Merlin's turn to be surprised. The old man knew his Druid name. Now he was certain the man was indeed a sorcerer. No one would question his right to that name but those who understood what it meant, who knew exactly what Emrys was destined to achieve.

"Well, I _have_ seen him," that wasn't a lie. "And it is quite near, the castle I mean… No more than an hour if you manage to get that wheel out of the mud."

"You say we are so close to Camelot?" It was Lord Aegrid who interrupted him.

"Can you tell us if there is a shortcut, one we could take on foot, if all our efforts fail?"

Merlin pretended to think really hard. He was actually distracted for a moment by a move on his right. One of the curtains in the carriage was lifted briefly.

_So there is someone else with them._

He lifted a hand up and gestured vaguely behind him towards the trees.

"There is a route through the forest. It can take you to the castle in about a couple of hours. But it is rather tricky, mind you…"

Lord Aegrid nodded stiffly.

"Well, we shouldn't keep you any longer. Good day, stranger."

This time Merlin decided to comply with the dismissal and start his way back to Camelot. He turned to lower his head to Henry and master Driory, a sign of respect to the both of them and then turned merrily towards the edge of the forest. In a final moment of inspiration he muttered a spell to push the carriage, just enough for it to get out of the puddle, and left the clearing, disappearing behind the bushes.

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><p>Driory couldn't believe it.<p>

"Ha! I told you, didn't I? I said it was a piece of cake enchantment. There, out and ready to leave…"

Henry watched amazed as his uncle bounced around the puddle of mud, the very embodiment of joy and pride for his accomplishment.

Lord Aegrid wasn't very impressed.

"Driory, for the love of all that is holy, would you stop behaving like a toddler? Yes, your spell seemed to have miraculously worked. No need to make a fool of yourself, my dear man…"

Andria stuck her head out of the carriage.

"Are we finally ready to go? Who was that, father?"

"Nobody Andriorella, get back inside, my dear. And the rest of you… Let's go, we are already late as it is."

Henry smirked at his older sister.

"Why yes, _Andriorella_, get in."

Andria's shot him a murderous glare.

"You, _Henry_, are impossible. Father, how can you expect me to survive even one day in Camelot when you inflict these two on me, I truly cannot fathom…"

Lord Aegrid dismissed his daughter's words and climbed inside the coach.

Soon, they resumed their journey towards the beautiful Citadel.

While Driory and Henry were busy commenting on every little detail of Camelot's countryside they could see, Lord Aegrid regarded his dear daughter.

Andria was so much like her mother. Same expressive brown eyes, light red curly hair and lovely pale complexion. His daughter was certainly a rare beauty.

When Aegrid was young, he had married from love. His wife, Sarah, was of a noble family, a beautiful and incredibly clever woman that everyone respected and loved.

And she was also a sorceress.

When the Great Purge had begun, his wife and her elder brother Driory were lucky enough to escape the death sentence. Aegrid had played a great part in ensuring that. He had paid to get their names off the list of alleged magic users and had left the kingdom's capital swiftly, retiring to his small estate north of Camelot. As one of Uther's lesser Lords, he was able to avoid visits to the palace. He paid his taxes and made sure never to bother the King, and in turn he got to keep his family.

Sarah gave him two healthy children, but alas, she died not long after giving birth to the second. It had been almost fourteen years since his wife passed away, and not a day went by when he didn't miss her terribly. But he had other, very important matters to keep him occupied. His eldest daughter hadn't been nine when she'd first shown signs of magic. From then on he made sure that Andriorella never left their home, nor made any contact with strangers. Her uncle Driory tried to teach her how to control her power, but he was never a strong sorcerer, nothing like his late sister. So, Aegrid guarded his daughter's life dearly, though it pained him that she couldn't have a normal childhood or even friends for that matter. Instead, he had told everyone who asked that she was ill and too weak to even get out of the house.

That was her life for nearly ten years. Then, a few months ago, word came that the ban on magic had been lifted, by order of the new King, the young Pendragon. In the beginning, both he and Driory were reluctant to believe the news. They had been too afraid, even thought it was a plot to lure magic users to a trap, but as time went by and the rumors became actual facts, Aegrid decided it was time for them to visit Camelot, the new King and apparently his new _Court Sorcerer_. Driory, after hearing the man's name, Emrys, had brightened up, and kept searching the few writings he had salvaged from the Purge for some kind of prophesy. He told them that Emrys was the name of the most powerful of all sorcerers and that it was foretold he would bring a new era of peace and prosperity throughout the land.

Thus, the small family had began their journey. Aegrid had sent a letter to inform the King of their visit. He would finally see for himself if magic was indeed once more accepted. If that was the case then, according to his plan, he should be able to get Henry to stay as an apprentice of the Court's physician. The boy loved reading about plants and remedies. Unfortunately, his son's build wasn't that of a knight, but a nice education from the best physician of the land should be of an equal standing. If Henry were to stay, then Driory and Andria would remain in Camelot as well as his guardians, and perhaps, in time, his daughter could reveal her talents and become a student under the Court Sorcerers tutelage.

Sighing loudly, Lord Aegrid reached for Andria's hand. The girl pretended she was too busy admiring the landscape to notice her father's emotional gesture.

"Look!" Henry shouted. "We're here! We are finally in Camelot!"

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><p><strong>There! What do you think? Good? Bad?<strong>

**Please review…**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Hello again! Thank you all for the lovely reviews, I'm always glad to know people actually like what I come up with… **

**Before we go on to the actual chapter, I should probably warn you there will be slight intoxication of a certain character, though not in a distasteful manner, so do not worry.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 2 <strong>

"Where _is_ he?"

The guard squirmed in his place by the door. "I… I d..don't knnow, Sire", he stuttered.

_Typical Merlin_, Arthur thought. _Never around when you need him_.

"Well if you don't know then, please, by all means, go and FIND HIM!"

The guard stumbled in fright and then quickly took off.

Touching his forehead to calm himself, Arthur walked inside the Great Hall.

A large enough crowd had gathered there already. Lords and Ladies, courtiers and servants alike were patiently waiting for an audience with the King. It was the first day of the month and that meant that every person in the kingdom got a chance to stand in the court and petition their sovereign about all kinds of matters, of significant and minor importance alike.

Arthur headed down the hall towards the thrones situated in the far end. Everyone bowed and made way for the king to pass, muttering flattering nonsense in formal greeting.

Only one of the thrones would be occupied though. Gwen was too busy with their newly born son to be able to hold court with her long suffering husband. On top of that, Arthur's first advisor seemed to have simply vanished into thin air, leaving a very grumpy King alone with a countless number of whining, incompetent idiots, or, as Merlin liked to call them, _citizens._

To be entirely honest, Arthur had to admit that the reason for his discomfort wasn't exactly the open court, it really had been his idea in the first place. It wasn't even Merlin's mysterious disappearance. It had more to do with the fact that later today he expected a visit from one of his most estranged Lords. He had received Lord Aegrid's letter nearly a fortnight ago and it had come as a startling surprise. From what he'd known about the man until then, Lord Aegrid of Longsdale was a not-so-powerful lord, who had never asked for Uther's help in the past years, nor had he visited the King in more than a decade. He knew from various sources that the man had a daughter of poor health, and had lost his wife years ago. So, in conclusion, life had apparently turned Lord Aegrid into a recluse, who didn't even bother to come out of his cave for his new King's crowning ceremony.

But the letter had changed Arthur's view about the Lord of Longsdale. After a few formal lines of congratulations for the King's coronation, his wedding and the news of his healthy and most importantly _male_ heir, it continued to pry about the recent change in laws and politics regarding the sensitive matter _of the art of magic_. It was all very vague, but had left Arthur with a gut-feeling that there was much implied. And of course, there was the not so subtle inquiry about his new Court Sorcerer, and the fact that Aegrid expressed his wish to be personally _acquainted_ with the '_legendary warlock'_.

It was something he had yet to share with Merlin. For all the progress Merlin had done the last months in behaving in a manner according to his newly acquired status as a lord, he was still treated poorly by many. Arthur didn't want to either burden or give false hope to his friend. He would wait and see.

From the very minute he was revealed as a sorcerer to the court, Merlin had been the source of much gossip, and had become the item of query by almost every visiting noble. Arthur had always detected apprehension and mistrust in the way they talked about Merlin, the way they _behaved_ around him.

It would be the _first_ time for some noble to ask about him in a somewhat _positive_ manner.

Arthur still blamed himself for this painfully uncomfortable situation. It was _his_ initial poor judgment, his lack of faith to his best friend and of course his damn _temper_ that resulted in the nobility's prejudiced response towards Merlin. He had come to regret every single hateful word that had come through his mouth that cursed day. No matter how hard he had -and still- struggled to establish that Merlin and his magic were an asset to the Kingdom, some nobles still talked behind his back, treasonous words about how the sorcerer had stolen the will of the King, and was soon to claim the throne as his own. It was the old generation, his father's council and close advisors that were the main instigators of this mutiny.

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><p>Slowly, one by one, the citizens of Camelot began to address the King. By the time he had finished, Arthur's head was throbbing and his stomach growling. He was about to dismiss everyone but was stopped by the arrival of a guard who announced that Lord Aegrid had finally arrived, accompanied by his entire family. Behind him came a second guard, the one that he had sent in search of his mumbling Court Sorcerer, who reported that after many inquiries he had learned that Merlin was last seen exiting the castle earlier that day.<p>

Groaning in annoyance that he had to greet the mysterious Lord Aegrid completely alone, he sent for the first guard to guide his guests inside.

The rest of the courtiers were at that point scattered around the room, discussing everything and nothing in particular, from the latest reports that King Lot was gathering his forces to the return of long sleeved tunics in fashion. But the minute the Great Hall's doors opened to reveal the newly arrived guests, every single person went immediately silent.

Lord Aegrid was an imposing man. Not older than fifty five years old with silver hair and a neatly trimmed beard. He was dressed in dark green, the colors of his house, and was holding the hand of a beautiful young maiden. The girl had red hair and wore also green, a rich gown with golden details, that made Arthur momentarily think of Morgana. Behind them walked a young brown-haired boy, looking scrawny in his too large formal attire and a short elderly nobleman with a very long, very _white_ beard and a slightly deranged smile.

Arthur got up from his throne to properly greet them. Aegrid and the others kneeled as soon as he got close to them.

"Sire. It is an honor to finally be at your presence. Please, accept my unfortunately _late_ condolences for the death of your father and allow me to congratulate you for your ascension to the throne and for your new wife and son. May the gods bless you and your family."

Arthur accepted the man's proclamation with a curt nod.

"Thank you, Lord Aegrid. You are all most welcome in Camelot."

The man got up and gestured to his companions to do the same. He then turned and looked at the girl by his side.

"Might I introduce you, my Lord, to my daughter, the Lady Andriorella of Longsdale. And this is my son and heir, Henry and his uncle, master Driory."

The three of them bowed their heads respectively to the King.

Arthur kissed the Lady's hand and smiled at the other two, the sheer embodiment of politeness and propriety.

"Now that we have all been introduced, what say you all join me for lunch? I am sure we have a lot to talk about. That is unless you are too tired from your journey, and perhaps wish to be shown to your chambers."

Lord Aegrid took a moment to look around him, a frown forming on his forehead.

He seemed to realize that he had yet to answer the King's question and opened his mouth to do so, but was cut off by the older man, Driory, who was simply unable to contain his curiosity any longer.

"Pardon me, Sire, but… you _must_ have forgotten. We haven't _all_ been introduced. Not at all. You haven't yet introduced us to _Emrys_."

The boy, Henry, was so startled by his uncle's indiscretion that he began to choke, coughing loudly and turning a dark shade of red. Lady Andriorella just rolled her eyes while her father glared at the old man and tried to cover for his mishap.

"I am truly sorry my Lord. Driory is somewhat of an… eccentric. We usually don't take anything he says too seriously. He doesn't leave the house much anymore either…"

The weird old man scoffed indignantly.

"I am not eccentric! What an _absurd_ notion…"

"Quiet Driory, let me do the talking!" Aegrid hissed.

"Gentlemen. Please." Arthur intervened magnanimously, sounding probably as amused as he, or any other person that was listening at this odd conversation, felt.

Arthur had been right about his original assumption that this visit might have more to do with Merlin than himself. _And the daft sod had gone and disappeared again_. Merlin's timing was simply _horrible_.

"I must apologize on behalf of both my Queen," _who you lot had more or less forgotten to mention,_ "and my _Court Sorcerer_. They are both… indisposed at the moment. Though I trust you will meet them at the banquet we have organized for tonight. You are of course the guests of honor."

All three of the visiting men deflated at once.

_Wow, they really wanted to meet Merlin. I feel kind off sorry for them._

On the other hand, perhaps he didn't, considering they didn't look very thankful that they were being treated like royal guests, when Lord Aegrid wasn't even one of the most powerful Lords in the land, never mind royalty. _Ungrateful idiots_.

"In that case, Sire," said Aegrid, "we would all be happy to accept your generous invitation to join you for luncheon…"

He was interrupted by the girl, lady Andriorella, who cleared her throat and stared at her father expectantly.

"Ah… That is all of us but my daughter, Sire. I'm afraid her health is too _fragile_ for such long travels. It would be better for her to retire, if she is to attend the banquet tonight."

Arthur signaled at one of the nearby servants.

"Of course, it is only natural. Mary here will take the task to act as maid to the Lady Andriorella for the rest of her stay in Camelot. Mary, please show the lady her chambers."

"Thank you, Sire," replied the noble girl, looking very relieved that she would be excused. She curtsied gracefully and quickly followed the middle aged maid out of the Hall.

Almost immediately after the lady's departure and before Arthur had a chance to suggest to his guest that they moved to somewhere more private for a nice goblet of wine and a good meal, the doors of the Great Hall burst wide open and the guard on post announced the arrival of his Excellency, Lord Merlin, the Court Sorcerer.

Arthur watched his friend stride towards them, shoving to pass through the gathered crowd of nobles and servants, mumbling apologies for stepping on half of them. When he finally arrived, Arthur was gobsmacked to see that Merlin _bowed_ respectfully and then turned to face the visiting nobles.

It wasn't until he saw Lord Aegrid's reaction to Merlin's arrival that Arthur realized he was apparently missing on something important. Because the visiting Lord stood there, _gaping_ at Merlin – who was dressed in a light purple silk tunic,_ Gwen must be in a strange mood today-_ while his mouth was forming a perfect O, and his expression had gone completely blank. The young lordling, Henry, was wide-eyed and frozen on the spot, whereas the crazy old man had narrowed his eyes suspiciously and was regarding Merlin in a measuring manner.

Master Driory moved closer to Merlin, until they were face to face. Well as much as they could be if one considered that he was practically two heads shorter than the warlock, but what he lacked in height he made up in beard length.

"So _you_ are supposed to be Emrys, huh?" he sounded doubting. "Strange … Do I know you from somewhere? You look surprisingly familiar…"

"Uncle…" Henry muttered, looking completely horrified.

"Silence Henry, don't you see? I am busy, child. So…. you are the most powerful sorcerer of them all… You don't look like much."

It was then that Aegrid finally managed to regain his composure and lost voice.

"_Driory!_ Forgive him, my lord…?" He addressed Merlin, still regarding him wearily.

Arthur was starting to get annoyed that no one was explaining to him –_he was the King for goodness sake_- what on earth was happening. Thankfully, Merlin picked up on the King's growing irritation. He rolled his eyes, accepted Lord Aegrid's apology goodheartedly and then shot a very innocent smile towards Arthur.

Huh! Like Arthur could ever fall for _that_.

"Why do I get the annoying feeling that there is something you haven't told me, _Mer_lin?" he demanded in mock aggravation.

'Who, me?' Merlin mouthed, eyes going completely round, fully adopting the look of a lost puppy.

Well, Arthur was only a man after all. He wasn't made of _stone_.

He sighed deeply. "Right, that's that then. Let us move somewhere more private, so we can all discuss in peace. Will you join us, oh mighty sorcerer?"

"I resent that, Arthur. I am a warlock, not _just_ a sorcerer," came the witty retort from Merlin.

Lord Aegrid and his son were left even more gawking at the easy way the king and the warlock were teasing one another. Driory on the other hand was still trying to figure out where he knew this Merlin fellow from.

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><p>They ended up in the dining hall and after being served wine and fruit by a fussing George, Lord Aegrid took the opportunity to speak to Merlin.<p>

What was said proved to be very enlightening for Arthur as well.

"You must forgive me, Lord Merlin. I hadn't realized who you were. I merely came to the conclusion… well, you certainly _looked_ like a peasant. You _must_ believe me when I say I am deeply sorry for my rude behavior…"

Merlin didn't let the man finish apologizing.

"Not to worry, my Lord. It is I who should probably take the blame anyway," he said, while raising a hand to stop Arthur from commenting, resulting in a very distressed but evidently _silent_ King. "It was me that failed to introduce myself properly. Not being born in nobility makes a man sometimes… forget his manners," he raised his hand again and Arthur scoffed very loudly at that, "though I _am_ glad I could help in getting you to your destination in time."

When Merlin finished he smiled apologetically to the king who, at first, appeared to be getting ready for a shouting match but, as soon as he saw his friend was indeed sorry, he gave up and instead was content with brewing in silence.

Driory, who was until then very quiet, probably musing over the mysterious young warlock, suddenly looked up, eyes shining finally in recognition.

"You! _You're_ the boy from the woods! The one that knew the road to Camelot! Does that mean…? _Oh._" he trailed off, eyes falling at down his, until then disregarded, goblet.

Henry regarded the old man in pity, fully sympathizing with his poor uncle.

"Don't worry, Uncle. You'll get it next time…" he said, whilst patting the old man's shoulder in comfort. He then turned shyly to Merlin.

"Perhaps… Lord Merlin could help you?"

* * *

><p>After settling in her new chambers, the ones the King had kindly arranged for her, Andria sent the maid, Mary, to bring her lunch, not that she was particularly hungry. It was more that she wanted to finally have some time for herself. Traveling for two days with the constant companionship of three men -five if one counted the servants- had left the young girl craving for some privacy.<p>

As soon as Mary left, Andria started exploring her new lodgings. It was a set of very comfortable rooms, well furnished and practical, but very impersonal, with a feel that made her feel like she didn't quite belong there.

But where did she belong, really? She had lived all her life hidden from the world, afraid that people would turn on her if they ever found out what she was, what she could do.

To simply leave, escape, was out of the question. Ever since she could remember, she hated the fact that she had been born a witch _and_ a noble. If she were just a commoner, a peasant, she could have left whenever she wanted. No one would ask or search for her. She could travel the world, see faraway lands beyond the sea, visit places where being magic inspired respect and the Old Ways were celebrated rather than hunted. But that kind of freedom existed only in her dreams.

At least until very recently.

When she first heard of King Arthur's decision to repeal the ban on magic, Andria knew she should have responded with joy. It could very likely mean that one day, soon, she would have the chance to stop hiding, reveal her true self and perhaps even learn how to properly use her extraordinary talents. But it _wasn't_ happiness that overwhelmed her. It was a deep anxiety. Doubt.

What if she revealed herself but still wasn't accepted? What if she was to be locked away, or worse, to be used as a weapon? Her darkest nightmare had always been the fear of using her gifts to hurt others, of turning to a ruthless, resentful sorceress, ascertaining to the general belief that all magic was evil.

It was this fear, this gut wrenching concern that made her want to leave the King and his court, and find refuge in her secluded chambers.

Her luggage had been already there when she arrived, so she hurried to open one of the trunks, and change into something more… appropriate. She pulled the bag she had managed to hide at the bottom of the chest and emptied its contents on the floor. It was a dirty brown tunic, dirty breaches of questionable color, a pair of worn old boots and what seemed like a black scarf. She had just managed to hide everything under the bed when Mary returned, carrying a tray with dry venison and boiled vegetables.

Andria asked her to leave the food on the table.

"Do you know how long we have before the banquet tonight, Mary?"

The maid smiled at her politely.

"No more than five or six hours, my lady. Do not worry, I will be here to assist you get ready."

"Well, don't be too early…" she muttered under her breath. "Thank you. That will be all for now."

After eating some of the dried meat, disregarding the nauseating vegetables, Andria retrieved the hidden clothes from the floor.

She knew she had enough time. Not wasting any moment, she removed all her jewelry and changed into the garb, with the exception of the scarf. Instead of wrapping it around her neck, she used it to cover her hair, which she had previously tied in a tight braid. As a final touch to her metamorphosis, she picked up some ash from the fireplace and smudged her face with it.

Back home, this was the only way for her to leave the house premises. It had originally been Henry's idea. Her brother had even given her the clothes and always tried to cover for her absence. No one could ever suspect the young Lady of running around the neighboring villages dressed looking like _that._

The results of her disguise were extraordinary. No one, not even her family – well except Henry, who already knew-, could ever link the beautiful noble lady with this dirty looking young _boy_.

In order to leave unnoticed, she used one of the few spells she had managed to learn, which told her there was no one passing outside of the rooms doors. She exited in hurry and soon enough, like the good vagrant that she was, she found herself being kicked out of the castle gates by two guards, and ended up on the streets of the lower town.

_Mission accomplished_.

* * *

><p>Every sight was new to Andria. She had never seen so many people in one place before. She decided to take her time and slowly began exploring the market while simultaneously avoiding any patrol that came her way.<p>

Lost in her newfound freedom, Andria turned randomly here and there, not really knowing which way she was heading. She ended up in some sort of a tavern, called The Rising Sun. Actually, the _real_ sun was about to set, meaning she probably had to start getting back to the palace, but Andria chose to ignore it. Instead, she walked inside the tavern, ordered a pint of their best ale and sat at a table, content in observing the other patrons. The tavern keeper eyed the 'boy' suspiciously but accepted the silver coin he offered for his drink without questioning where he had acquired that much money from.

After her second pint, Andria was beginning to feel quite drowsy. She couldn't shake the feeling she had forgotten something _very_ important. Unable to determine what it was exactly, she slowly rose from her seat and unsteadily made her way outside.

The cold night air helped sober her up, if only a little bit. She didn't have time to process the fact that it was completely dark by now, before she was sprawled to the ground, after being hit by another body.

It was a boy, perhaps a few years younger than herself. He got up faster than her and tried to escape but was apprehended by someone else, a big fellow with an entourage of three laughing goons, that caught the boy from his tunic and got ready to resume punching the poor lad. The young boy was shaking with terror, and it was all Andria could do really to get up and start hitting the bully in the face with her fists.

The others were surprised at first, but didn't waste much time and attacked both her and the small boy. Andria, by a miracle, avoided getting hit by the two of them, her eyes flaring up with magic, reacting purely on instinct. She managed to throw them all to the ground, though not too forcefully. Alas, it only aggravated the bullies and scared the boy that she was set in defending so much that he fled the scene the moment he saw her obvious display of magic.

_Oh, no. Now I'm in trouble. Father is going to kill me._

The idiots had her completely surrounded, and were beginning to come closer. They were smirking in a way that definitely promised unimaginable pain when, all of a sudden, the most amazing thing happened. Their eyes went rapidly very wide and they started backing off, slowly at first and then breaking into a run.

Andria was left there puzzled, but in her slightly intoxicated and thus a little dimwitted state couldn't resist shouting a final insult to the retreating cowards.

"That's right! Walk away you filthy varmints! I'll show you who's in charge around here…"

A voice came from behind her, sounding very amused and remotely familiar.

"And who might that be, boy? _You_…?"

* * *

><p><strong>That was a really long chapter, wasn't it? The scary thing is that the following chapters are even <strong>_**bigger!**_** (My beta is a saint for putting up with me...)**

**Remember to show me some love and review! :D**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Here is chapter number 3! I hope you find it satisfying… I certainly loved writing it ;)**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 3<strong>

After about an hour of stale and awkward conversation, Lord Aegrid and his companions were excused to rest until the evening feast. Merlin also retired to his rooms, so Arthur decided to go to his wife and son, whom he hadn't had the chance to see all day. He found Guinevere in the Queens chambers, calmly working on her embroidery. She hurried to shush him the moment she set eyes on him.

"Aidan is finally asleep…" she said, gesturing to the door on her left, the one leading to the little prince's nursery.

His wife was dressed in a simple fine yellow gown, which was nothing like the extravagant dresses many of the ladies in court could be seen in. In the eyes of the King, anything his wife chose to wear made her look breathtaking. She looked tired now, but very happy. _Motherhood suits her_, Arthur thought.

Slowly, she got up from her chair and reached for her husband.

"How was your morning, my love?"

He was happy to tell her all about his meeting with the visiting Lord and Merlin's first acquaintance with the man in the forest. Gwen found the whole matter more endearing rather than amusing. She said it was typical of Merlin to appear so selfless and go to the aid even of those who didn't treat him properly. When he finished his story, ending it with how ill at ease Merlin looked when master Driory tried to kiss his hand to pay his respects, Gwen merely smiled knowingly, moved to open a nearby cupboard and took a small leather satchel from within.

"Elyan dropped by in the morning and left me this. He said you gave him until the end of the week to finish, but he managed to find some spare time and work on it yesterday." She handed the small bag to Arthur, who was looking a little red, and very much embarrassed.

"Would you mind telling me what it is? I haven't opened it…" she urged him.

The king looked very uncomfortable indeed. Taking a deep breath, he opened the pouch and retrieved a small round amulet from inside.

"It's just a silly thing. I mean, I figured Merlin should have a sigil now that he is technically a noble, and I just… I don't know, I thought this could be it. You understand. Like a gesture…"

Gwen struggled not to laugh at her husband's obvious embarrassment. She regarded the item carefully.

"I think it is very right for him, Arthur."

* * *

><p>Merlin didn't want to change clothes again, but Travis said that Queen Guinevere had specifically chosen the outfit for him. The young man, who had been recently made Merlin's manservant, was waiting for him with the new clothes, when the warlock returned to his chambers, so he hadn't had that much of a choice.<p>

Travis was a good lad, if perhaps a bit naïve, but Merlin liked that about him. He had initially protested to the idea of having, or even needing, a manservant, he who actually _knew_ how to dress on his own. But Arthur wouldn't hear of it, he was adamant about the whole matter and in the end Merlin had receded. After all, his chambers most of the time where in dire need of a good clean-up, plus poor Travis could really use the extra money. Merlin had turned up to be a most lenient master, though the young manservant was still maybe a little scared of his magic.

After Travis helped him dress in a deep blue, rich tunic with slight silver embroidery, and charcoal breaches, _-no neckerchief, damn it!-_ Merlin sent him away, giving him the rest of the evening off.

He had a little time left until the banquet, so Merlin sat behind his desk, more of a working table really, and resumed reading one of the magic books Arthur had managed to acquire for him. So naturally, that was when someone decided to come knocking on his door.

_Am I never to have time to study anymore?_ He sighed forlornly.

"Come in…"

Arthur opened the door and walked inside.

"That is a first… The King of Camelot _knocking_ on somebody else's door? Are you feeling alright, _Art_hur?"

The King smiled.

"Shut up, _Mer_lin. I dare not think what I could accidentally see if I came in barging through your doors, like a country bumpkin…"

"Well, what brings you here? I was actually trying to have some work done here… you know, studying?"

Arthur gave him a strange look. It was then that Merlin noticed his friend was holding something. He seemed almost uncertain as to what he should do, so Merlin decided to help.

"Do you have something for me?" he said, pointing at Arthur's hand.

The King was startled, as if he had forgotten why he had come for, but quickly recovered and walked to the warlock, offering him the small leather pouch in his hand.

"I had Elyan make this for you. Just, I don't know… noticed you didn't have one…"

Merlin eyed him suspiciously, starting to worry. "Haven't got what exactly? Arthur, you are _sure_ you're not enchanted again?"

Arthur rolled his eyes and threw him the bag. He caught it easily and emptied it on his hand.

It was a small, round golden amulet, hanging from a thin, silver chain. When he turned it around, he saw that the front was engraved with a flying hawk. A _merlin_.

Merlin's eyes shot up in shock to meet his friend's. Arthur was trying to look casual, but was failing miserably. The warlock felt deeply touched by his king's gesture, so much in fact, that he could not find words to express his gratitude.

Arthur tried to fill the growing silence.

"As a noble of my court, you ought to have a sigil, Merlin. I thought it rather fitting," he trailed off.

Merlin cleared his throat. "Well. Thank you. It… it is very nice."

Arthur pretended not to have noticed the rough tone in Merlin's voice. Instead, he turned to the doors. "We should go now, Gwen is already waiting! Wouldn't want to be late for the feast, would we?"

Merlin nodded silently. He got up, threw a black cloak over his shoulders and then wore the chain over his head, neatly tucking his new amulet under the rich fabric of the cloak. When he walked past Arthur, the King, in a necessary manifestation of manliness, stuck out his elbow and pushed him, knocking the thin man off balance and straight to the floor.

"Hey! Watch it, you prat!" Merlin squealed indignantly, but when Arthur guiltily offered a hand to help him up, he was reworded with the warlock's genuine smile.

* * *

><p>The tables in the Great Hall were full of luxurious food. Wild boar and venison, stuffed geese and roasted chicken, served with all kinds of vegetables and an abundance of fine wine. All in all, it was a usual banquet night.<p>

At the high table, the King and Queen were dinning with their honored guests. On the King's right hand sat the Court Sorcerer, who was enduring the merciless chatter of master Driory, while Lord Aegrid and King Arthur were too occupied in their conversation to try and rescue the poor warlock from his ordeal. Henry on the other hand was in awe to find that Camelot's renowned court physician, Gaius, was also in attendance and had discretely changed seats so that he would be by the old man, though he was still too shy to properly address him.

Arthur was very intrigued. The longer he talked with Aegrid, the more he was certain that he was a _supporter_ of magic. He hadn't actually said as much, but the hints and meaningful looks were more than enough for the young King to come to this conclusion.

It didn't come as a great surprise, not really. It hadn't escaped Arthur's notice that Lord Aegrid's disappearance had coincided with the beginning of the Great Purge. Arthur had always known that some of the noble families of old Camelot had connections to magic, but he also knew that they too had been persecuted mercilessly and ultimately killed by his father.

It pained him still when he thought about the lies his father had told him, of the people he had practically _murdered_.

To have before him, now, a lord that was at least accepting –if not using- magic, was a delightful novelty. He had come to believe that he would be forced to argue with every single member of his court to defend his new stance towards magic and, of course, _Merlin_.

_Speaking of Merlin…_

"Guinevere, have you seen Merlin? I swear he was right here not a moment ago…"

His Queen looked at him perplexed. "Indeed. How odd. I didn't notice him leave…"

"Sire," master Driory spoke, "he told me he had forgotten to check the outer wall _wards_. He tried to tell you, but you were otherwise engaged at the moment…"

Arthur was very displeased with the information. He was about to call for a guard to fetch back his Court Sorcerer –a task that was proving to be very common among the royal household these days- but was interrupted by Lord Aegrid, who took the task of cooling the King off, thus saving Merlin's behind.

"He is truly commendable to be thinking of his duty when he could still be here enjoying this wonderful feast, my Lord. I only wish my own _daughter_ would deign to finally show up. I understand a young lady's need to make an impressionable entrance, but it is starting to get too long…"

Gwen cut in with a comment about the endless procedure that getting ready for a ball is for a woman, and the conversation took an entirely different course. Arthur relaxed back in his chair, listening to his wife chatter while noting to himself that he should be extra pratty tomorrow towards Merlin, just to make a statement.

* * *

><p>Merlin wrapped the cloak tightly around him. It was a chilly evening, and the contrast of the warm banquet hall to the windy courtyard sent shivers all over his thin frame.<p>

_Thank the spirits_, he managed to escape! That old goose, master Driory, was nearly driving him mad. He hadn't actually told him that he was a sorcerer, though Merlin was sure of it, but he hadn't stopped blabbering even for a minute. He was talking all kinds of nonsense. Mostly about old prophesies and the properties of dried turnips in indigestion. And about his beloved niece, the elusive lady _Andriorella_. On top of that, he had nearly bummed into Lord Gergond of Stiels, the most obnoxious, egotistic lord in Arthur's court. The elderly lord never missed the chance to glare daggers at the young warlock. He hadn't yet forgotten the humiliation of staying in the stocks for two whole days.

_Well he shouldn't have insulted my mother's honor in the first place, insufferable idiot._

Merlin trailed down a dark path, heading to the lower town. At this hour, most citizens were either at their homes, sleeping, or in the taverns, probably losing their money in drinking games with Sir Gwaine. Not having a specific destination in mind - the protective wards he had placed around Camelot's outer walls were _perfectly_ fine, no need to check on them whatsoever-, Merlin decided to head for the main street and roam around the lower town. He was walking between the shadows, when he heard a loud commotion. It was coming from the direction of The Rising Sun inn. _Probably some drunkard_, he thought, but one could never be sure. He arrived at the scene of the fight to discover the cause of it, a group of young boys, common street bums from the likes of them. The three bigger looking thugs noticed him first, while the forth had his back on Merlin, getting ready to attack. It might have been dark, but Merlin's figure was rather unique, and the sudden appearance of the Court Sorcerer was enough to scare the boys away. The forth one had yet to see him, though, thus he mistook the other troublemakers' decision to fly before they got caught for cowardice, and began _gloating_.

Now, Merlin normally was the kind of person to let others take credit for the work that he had done -_just ask Arthur-, _but, really, he should teach this boy a lesson, discourage him from future trouble. So he addressed the young man, while keeping his voice perfectly calm, if somewhat amused.

"And who might that be, boy? _You_…?"

The boy turned abruptly to look at him. His face was dirty, his clothes old and worn and he wore a _cloth_ on his head –_what's up with that?-_, but his eyes reminded Merlin of… something.

He just couldn't put his finger on it.

* * *

><p>Andria turned to see who had called her. She was still running with the rush of excitement from the fight, from using her magic out in the open and that, mixed with the alcohol she had consumed, made her feel like she could handle <em>everything<em>.

She was surprised to see a familiar figure. He was dressed in a dark cloak that covered most of his form, but undeniably it was the young man from the forest, the one that had offered to help them earlier that same day.

How _dared_ this peasant speak to her in this manner? True, she was in disguise but that shouldn't matter! She was a lady after all, and she had just defended an innocent young boy from being bullied! She could call herself whatever she wished.

"Mind your own business!" she hissed and started straightening her clothes, checking carefully that the scarf that hid her hair was still properly in place.

The man looked ever more amused by her statement, which only resulted in further aggravating her.

"What are you laughing at, you fool? Leave, or else I might be forced to deal with you accordingly…" Now that was a bit of a bluff. She wouldn't want to hurt the man, not really. He might be a simpleton, but he was willing to help her father not long ago, so he couldn't be all that bad.

Her threat had the exact opposite effect that she had aimed for. The young man practically sniggered when he heard her and was quick to reply.

"Oh, _really_? Pray tell, what would you do to me, boy?"

Now, for what happened next Andria would forever blame The Rising Sun's ale, but it was probably a mix of that with her fiery temperament and her wounded pride that led her to attack the man in front of her with _magic_.

* * *

><p>Merlin was having too much fun at the expense of the young boy, who was clearly a bit intoxicated. But it stopped being fun the minute the boy's eyes turned gold and he felt a quite strong magical hit at his stomach. Caught unprepared, he groaned from the pain and was lucky he didn't fall down.<p>

As the Court Sorcerer of Camelot, he had many tasks, the most important of which was to make sure no magic user ever abused his powers. Attacking a, seemingly, unarmed person with magic was definitely _not_ good. The boy should be _definitely_ taught a lesson.

"I am afraid you have to come with me, young man. A night in the dungeons should be enough to teach you to be more careful with your power…" He moved quickly to restrain the boy, catching him off guard. The boy struggled to escape his grasp, and tried in vain to use magic to repel him, but this time Merlin was prepared. The spell didn't even register in his mind, while he automatically blocked it.

"Who do you think you are, arresting me and throwing me in the dungeons? The King of Camelot?" the boy spat vehemently.

The irony wasn't lost to Merlin when he replied.

"No, I'm his _Court Sorcerer_, Merlin…"

* * *

><p>Lord Aegrid looked alarmed. Andria should have been there by now. He gestured to Henry, as discretely as possible, to go and look for his missing sister. The boy thankfully understood, and left without a moment's thought.<p>

Soon enough he was back, looking pale and uncertain. Now Aegrid started to get worried. Did something happen to his dear child? The King noticed his sudden distress and immediately inquired if anything was amiss. When Henry approached, he told both his father and Arthur that neither he nor Mary, the maid, could find his sister. She was absent from her chambers, but it didn't look like there had been an attack, and from what he could tell nothing was stolen. Arthur took them both out of the Hall, begging Gwen to make sure everyone went on with the feast, and ordered two of the Knights that were there with him, Sirs Percival and Peleas, to gather a group of guards each and start searching the palace for the missing lady. The girl's father, her brother and Arthur would start their search from her rooms.

Arthur was beginning to think that he should sent for Merlin, seeing that this situation could be of magical origins, when the man himself appeared at the end of the corridor, forcibly shoving a struggling prisoner towards the stairway to the lower dungeons.

"Merlin! Where on earth have you been! We have an emergency."

The sorcerer stopped in his tracks, the boy nearly falling on the floor from abruptness.

"What's wrong? Is it an attack?" Merlin was dead serious.

Arthur hurried to reassure him.

"Not exactly. Lord Aegrid's daughter, Lady Andriorella, is missing. We've looked everywhere and she cannot be found. She has just… vanished. Henry, here, told us…" he trailed off when he caught glimpse of the young lord. Henry was gaping at the street bum that Merlin had restrained, undeniably gobsmacked. The dirty looking boy had his head lowered and had suddenly gone very still.

Arthur smelled a _rat._

"Henry, do you have something to _share_ with us?"

The boy gulped, and after a moment, he nodded guiltily. His father was now regarding him with concern, but Arthur did not relent. He raised his eyebrows expectantly, and was reworded with an indecipherable mumble.

"Thtisndra…"

"I beg your pardon?" Merlin asked.

The boy sighed and turned to look at the warlock.

"That…" he gestured to the thug, "is Andria."

Merlin reacted immediately. With a loud gasp, he let go of the boy -the _Lady_ Andriorella-, as if he got burned. His eyes were wide and he kept opening and closing his mouth.

Lord Aegrid had gone rigid, obviously in denial, while Henry was trying to hide behind his father to avoid the deathly glare that his sister was sending him.

Arthur was the calmest of them all. It _was_ his job, after all.

"Look at that! Lady Andriorella… Andria… Merlin, pray tell me, why are you arresting our … guest?"

* * *

><p>He should have seen it coming. Really.<p>

_Andriorella_.

Andria.

That boy was _Andria_. Well, obviously not a boy, but still… Andria!

How could he not have noticed?

_Because she was disguised, you idiot_, said a voice in his head, sounding a lot like Arthur.

A dozen thoughts went through his head. He had managed to keep everything concerning their time travel experience out of his mind. Nobody else remembered anything, so it hadn't been very difficult. What was going to happen, would eventually, well, _happen_. That didn't mean he should dwell on it all the time. He had returned from the future with the knowledge that someday all of his dreams would come true. But he had to let life go on, to lead him down the right path and not let this knowledge overcome him.

Yet, seeing Andria now, in the _right_ time, caught him completely unprepared. This girl would become his best pupil, his right hand and, eventually, his love interest. It was a little overwhelming.

He was shaken out of his thoughts by Arthur, who seemed to be repeating a question.

Why _did_ he arrest Andria?

A glance at the girl told him she had gone deathly pale, looking ready to pass out at any second. His mind quickly put two and two together and started thinking for an excuse. Andria clearly didn't want the King, or possibly any other, to know about her magic. He would respect that, of course. A secret like _that_ should be exposed by its bearer.

If it had been anyone else, he wouldn't even try to cover for them. Noble or not, Andria had used magic to attack an unarmed man who wasn't even offensive. But he _knew_ her, she was _good_. He could make an exception for once, though he would have to have a very serious conversation with the young lady afterwards.

So, deciding to play the old Merlin-the-palace-buffoon card, he stared at Arthur with huge eyes, mumbling apologies and looking extremely hesitant.

"I.. I just saw him, the lady I mean… strolling around in the court….yard. The courtyard."

Arthur narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

"And…?"

"And she was… she was trying to get in the palace! She had passed the guards, really Arthur we _have_ to do something about security in this place, I mean for g…"

"MERLIN!" Arthur yelled. Merlin observes he was starting to turn purple.

"Right, sorry… Well, I thought she was trying to sneak inside to steal something so I… detained her? Yes! Though very, _very_ respectably…"

He could see Arthur wasn't convinced.

"I see. And what about you, my Lady? How is it that you ended up looking like… this. And why didn't you inform Merlin of your identity?"

The lady hesitated to respond. When she did, she sounded defeated.

"I am deeply sorry, Sire. I only wanted some time alone. It was a childish thing to do, I am aware. Please accept my sincere apologies for the inconvenience I caused…"

Arthur cut in. "As long as you are fine, it does not matter. Believe it or not, my lady, we all have been where you stand, in one way or another. I will send for a bath to be brought to your chambers. Go get some rest. Merlin, walk with me, please…"

* * *

><p><strong>So? Did you like the way Andria and Merlin finally 'meet'? Review and tell me your opinion! :D <strong>

**Oh, and I promise, next chapter, the plot thickens….. **


	4. Chapter 4

**Well, as I had promised you, in this chapter things are getting more… intriguing! **

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 4 <strong>

George had finally finished polishing King Arthur's shield and was dutifully carrying it to the royal quarters. He opened the doors carefully with one hand, while the other was holding the precious item. The King had left the banquet hall some time ago and the manservant could see that he hadn't returned to his rooms yet.

He walked to the table and was in the middle of carefully placing the shield down, when he heard the shrieking sound of the door opening behind him. He turned immediately and came face to face with Travis, Lord Merlin's manservant.

George still couldn't believe how an incompetent idiot like Merlin, who had served his Majesty so poorly, had ended up being a very powerful sorcerer and a lord of the court at that. But he could only pity him, because he had been in turn burdened with the second most incompetent manservant of all times. The _Travis_ fellow.

"What do you think you are doing in the King's chambers, Travis?" he asked in a manner that expressed how appalled he was with the young man's behavior.

"Sorry, George. I was just… looking for Lord Merlin?" he sounded confused.

"Well he isn't here, obviously! Now, please leave."

The younger servant lowered his head mumbled an apology and scrambled to leave.

* * *

><p>Travis ran through the deserted corridors of the castle. He moved in the shadows, avoiding the guards, hiding in dark alcoves and moving when they turned around a corner. Soon enough, he reached his destination. It was a small guest room near the end of the corridor. A dim light shone through the cracks of the wooden planks, suggesting there was somebody behind the closed door.<p>

The young man looked anxiously behind him. No one was coming. He hesitantly raised a hand and opened the door.

"Good, I was beginning to think you would disappoint me…"

Travis gulped. He walked inside the small room, closing the door behind him.

"I have it. Please…" he begged.

The man smiled a frightening sort of smile.

"We'll see. Let me have it then."

The man was wearing his usual dark blue attire, but in the dim light it could be seen as pure black. Travis thought it made the man look like a raven, a carrier of bad news. But he was _much_ worse.

"Please, here it is." He told him again, as he pulled the keys from his pocket. "I've done what you've asked of me, _please_ let her go…" he pleaded.

The other man grabbed the keys forcibly and then smirked at the scared servant.

"Are you sure no one has suspected anything?" he demanded coldly.

The servant nodded. "George nearly walked in on me, but I managed to make it look like I had just come in. You can return it tomorrow morning, when he will be with the King in the council. They will just presume that the doors were left unlocked and since nothing would be missing by then…" he blabbered anxiously. The boy was clearly uncomfortable talking about these… less than lawful dealings.

"Very good." The man said slyly. "Then the girl has nothing to fear. _For now_…"

"You said you would let her go! If I did this, she would be _safe_!" Travis hissed.

"Calm yourself, boy. I said she has nothing to fear. And if you are smart and do what I tell you to, then soon she will be free. She'll make an honest man out of you…"

The servant looked resigned. "Why… Why shouldn't I just go and tell my master, tell the King?"

"Because you'll never see her again! Your precious _King_ and his pet sorcerer might be able to save _you,_ but I assure you, _she_ will be long gone by the time anyone finds her…"

He walked towards Travis, until they were face to face.

"Listen, _Travis._ I understand you're getting restless. In a few weeks, everything will be settled. You'll just have to do _one_ more thing. That is all… Do you think you are up to it?"

"Do I have a choice?" the servant sighed.

The man smirked. "No, I guess you don't."

* * *

><p>Merlin finished his breakfast in bed. He usually didn't have time for such luxury, too busy with his work and various duties to waste precious time, but he had decided to spend the entire morning in his chambers. He needed time to think, try and sort things out in his head.<p>

The previous evening, Arthur hadn't chastised him much for arresting a guest noble woman. Well, anyone would realize that lady Andria –and what was it with everyone calling her _Andriorella?_- wasn't very innocent in the whole misunderstanding. The king was content to mock his friend for being unable to distinguish a woman from a man, and then dismiss him for the night.

Merlin expected that sometime during the day the young lady in question would come to pay him a visit and try to explain herself. That was why he had to figure out how he would behave around her.

He knew Andria's future lay in Camelot. When he had first met her she was a very strong willed woman and an extremely talented sorceress. Someone who held an important position in Camelot, who was his loyal companion and second in command. But the girl he met yesterday didn't seem like any of that. She was young and wild, perhaps a little spoiled and most definitely very much scared, of _herself_ more than anything.

Merlin wasn't stupid, he could understand why the girl felt the way she did. All her life she had probably been hidden from the world for her own protection. Disguising herself as a boy must have been the only way for her to _live_ a little.

The young warlock had already come to the conclusion that it would be him who would help Andria reach her true potential. Through _his_ guidance and tutelage she would be able to become who she was meant to be. _Kind of like Arthur, come to think of it._

Oddly enough, Merlin found himself feeling very light-hearted. He knew he didn't have to worry about the future. This Andria was so different from the one he remembered that she was practically another person, thus making the situation was much simpler. He would treat Andria exactly like he would any other young noble girl. Well, young noble girl _with magic_.

The only tricky part was how to make her accept a position as his apprentice. She was too scared to even admit being magic in front of one man –alright, so that man also happened to be the king, but that's not a big deal, not really- let alone the entire Camelot.

He would have to work on that.

When Andria finally showed up, Merlin had been dressed -Gwen hadn't sent anything new, which was surprisingly disappointing- and was busy reading an old trade agreement Arthur wanted him to revise. She stood shyly at the door, not daring to walk inside the large room, but unwilling to leave either.

She looked very different from the lady Merlin recalled. Definitely younger, about nineteen years old if his estimations were correct, she was wearing a delicate light blue dress, that made an entrancing contrast with her gleaming red hair that she wore in a complicated braid.

Merlin regarded her fondly for a moment, lost in the differences between his memories and the live image; before he remembered his manners and got up to formally greet the lady.

"My lady, do forgive me. Please come in and, dare I say, you look _lovely_ today. Very _clean.._."

Andria didn't respond, but accepted his invitation and the seat he offered her. She was still not meeting his eyes, and perhaps even blushing just a little bit.

Merlin smiled. _She is but a child still._

"Do not worry, my lady. Your secret is safe with me."

Andria relaxed a little at that. She shifted in her seat, trying to get more comfortable.

Merlin took the chance to continue. "I should warn you though, Lady Andria, not to repeat your actions, for I'll be forced to act accordingly. A sorcerer should never abuse their magic…"

Andria had of course the decency to look ashamed at his reminder of her unacceptable behavior. She lowered her head and nodded.

"You agree, my lady? You know, you _can_ talk to me, I won't bite or anything…"

He was rewarded with a small smile and, finally, an answer.

"I don't _ever_ do that… I could never live with myself if I… Well, I will never drink ale again, I swear…," she muttered sheepishly.

Merlin regarded her carefully. Feeling confident, he made an abrupt decision to help the girl understand that he was truly there to help, as her ally.

"Tea?" he asked merrily.

She seemed surprised by the sudden change of subject but she politely accepted.

The warlock's eyes turned to gold and a cup of hot tea appeared on the air in front of Andria. The shocked expression on her face was simply _priceless_.

* * *

><p>"So you never actually studied any spells?"<p>

The young noblewoman took a sip from her cup and shook her head.

"Not really, no. My uncle, Driory, has tried to teach me some, but even he can't seem to get them right most of the time. I know only a couple of spells, one simple clairvoyance spell and the incantation to light a small fire."

"It is more than what I knew when I first started studying sorcery."

"I thought you never learned magic. That, as Emrys, you were born like this…"the _like me_ was left unsaid.

"I could do magic for as long as I can remember. I _am_ a warlock. But I studied spells, sorcery, so that I can properly learn to control and give purpose to my magic. A warlock can become a sorcerer but a sorcerer could never be a warlock."

Andria accepted that with genuine interest.

"What am I then? I started doing magic when I was nine years old. Am I not a sorcerer as well?"

"You, my lady, are probably a witch then. You could become a very powerful sorceress if you wanted to…" he trailed off, not wanting to scare the girl away.

She regarded him carefully. Seeming to have finally come to a conclusion, she placed her cup upon the table and stood up.

"Lord Merlin, I would like to ask something of you."

He kept his composure calm and chose to remain seated.

"I humbly request that you, the Sorcerer of the Court take me on as an apprentice."

She was very serious and determined, Merlin was pleased to notice.

"And I happily accept, my lady."

Andria's face broke into a huge grin. Merlin responded with an equal one.

"I only have one question, though," he said, and then hurried to continue when he saw the way Andria frowned.

"Why is everyone calling you _Andriorella_?"

She relaxed immediately, dropping back into her chair giggling.

"I'm afraid that is my name. I know its _awful_! I much prefer Andria. Only father insists on calling me Andriorella. Please, my lord, call me Andria?"

"Of course. I can relate to your condition… After so many years in Arthur's service, I sometimes find myself believing I am actually called _Meeer_lin…"

* * *

><p>Henry couldn't believe his luck. After last night's fiasco, he had been certain he would be grounded for the next <em>month<em> to say the least.

Instead, his father had come to his rooms and announced that he had arranged a meeting with the Court physician. The young boy could barely contain his enthusiasm over the matter.

That was how he had ended up in the Court physician's chambers, being offered the position of Gaius's apprentice.

"I am short of help, you see. My last apprentice sadly has, shall we say _moved_ to another field, and I could really use an eager student such as yourself, young Henry."

Henry was more than eager to agree. His father was smiling, very pleased with the outcome.

"I know he will be your best student, Gaius. You have been all he has talked about since we set out for Camelot…" said Lord Aegrid.

"What happened to your other apprentice, master Gaius?" the boy dared to ask.

"Just Gaius will do, my lad. He got promoted, I'm afraid. Merlin is now Court Sorcerer."

* * *

><p>Later that same day…<p>

It was all Arthur could do to not laugh when a very distressed, very _green-clad_ Merlin barged in the King's chambers, - _is he…_ _pouting?-_ and started talking uncontrollably.

"… and here I thought that she was my _friend._ I was even concerned when I didn't find anything in the morning, and then she sends me _this_? Arthur, you _must_ put an end to this… I refuse to continue with…"

"_Mer_lin… Merlin! Will you, please, _shut up_?"

That seemed to do the trick. The warlock froze and glared at him.

"Now, let's take this from the beginning, _slowly._"

Merlin grinded his teeth, infuriated.

"Your _wife_ expects me to appear at the council today as a luminous green _caterpillar_."

Arthur couldn't hold himself any longer. It was simply impossible. He guffawed loudly, turning red from lack of oxygen, a reaction that aggravated Merlin even more.

"I..oh gods… I thought…," the king tried to control his laughter, "I thought that you rather liked having Guinevere making all these little outfits for you, Merlin. It helps her get her mind off all the state matters and the constant care for our son."

"No, Arthur! As the Court Sorcerer, your FIRST advisor, I am telling you _I will not wear this in PUBLIC!"_

"Terribly sorry to inform you, Merlin, but you already _are_."

Merlin's eyes widened comically. It made the king feel a little sorry for him.

"I'll tell you what, Merlin. Why don't you use your infamous _magical abilities_ and turn yourself another colour."

He watched patiently as it dawned on his friend that, indeed, if he wished he could change the cursed clothes to whatever colour he so desired, his furry turning into a very satisfying –for Arthur anyway- embarrassment.

"And to think that you're the same person who managed to lie to me for more than five years…" he said without thinking, regretting the words the minute they got out of his mouth.

Merlin had sobered up as well, and had turned his eyes away from the king.

_Too soon for jokes...Great! Now I've done it._

He decided to change the topic to a safer and hopefully less complicated one.

"What happened this morning anyway that resulted in you being this distracted?"

His method work, because Merlin was more than eager to inform him.

"I had the most interesting talk with lady Andria, lord Aegrid's daughter. And actually, I wish to speak to you about her, Sire. _She_ is probably the reason for my… let us say lack of focus."

"Oh, I knew it! You _like_ her, don't you, _Mer_lin? All that dragging around the castle made you…"

"ARTHUR! She is not older than a teenager! How can you say that?" Merlin sounded very much distraught by that notion.

"Alright, I apologize…" answered the king, sounding very unapologetic, if one judged from Merlin's doubtfully raised eyebrows.

"What I was trying to say is that Lady Andria has accepted a position as my apprentice."

It was Arthur's eyebrows' turn to be raised, this time in surprise.

"She has magic? I suspected Lord Aegrid had something to do with magic, but never the girl. You'll probably accuse me of falling for old stereotypes if I say that my guess would have been the old man, Driory."

"Actually, in this case you would have been correct. Though he isn't much of a sorcerer, poor man. But there is something else, Arthur. Andria doesn't want to be revealed as a witch. Not yet, anyway. And I have to agree with her on the matter. She is too young to be able to bear all the negative attention such a proclamation is bound to inflict upon her. She isn't used to it, not like me."

The King nodded solemnly. He wished there could be a faster way for him to change the minds of his court about magic. To make them accepting, rather than apprehensive.

_Well, magic could work actually._

"Of course, Merlin. On this matter I trust you completely. You can inform both lady Andria and her family that she will have the King's protection for as long as she stays in Camelot."

* * *

><p>Merlin had invited Andria and the rest of her family to dine with him in the evening. He had changed into his previous, non-green outfit- it turned out that Gwen had been indeed joking with him- and was spending his time by muttering spells to keep the food from turning cold.<p>

They arrived on time and soon they were all seated around the table. Travis was there to serve the dinner, but Merlin sent him away as soon as he was done, so that they could all talk in private.

As the rest of his family began eating, Lord Aegrid didn't waste any time and promptly started thanking their host.

"Andria told me of the honor you bestowed upon her, Lord Merlin. Indeed, words cannot express my gratitude. For so many years, I had been worried that… that she would never find… Excuse me…" the older lord didn't manage to continue, actually choking a _sob_ and succeeding in making Merlin feel very awkward and surprisingly guilty.

"Please, don't worry. I understand more than you know. I have a mother who had had a very similar reaction when she heard the news of the repeal…" he tried to sound sympathetic.

Andria was now tearing up as well, after watching her father's outburst, and it was left to good-old master Driory to try and salvage the situation.

"Have you heard, Lord Emrys? Henry is to stay as well, as Gaius' apprentice. And if Andria is to become yours, they have to be left in the care of one of their guardians. Aegrid of course has his duties back home, so it falls on me to take that charge. I am to stay in Camelot! Oh, we are going to have so much fun…"

Merlin wasn't sure if he was to take that as a complement or a threat but he responded with a polite smile nonetheless.

After that, the dinner had continued rather smoothly. At the end, Aegrid informed Merlin that he was to leave for Longsdale the day after tomorrow, so they arranged to meet again, just the two of them, the following day for lunch. Merlin suspected he wanted to talk to him about the amount of time the young warlock would be spending from now on with the man's daughter.

_Why does everyone immediately assume I am interested in Andria in that way? _

* * *

><p>It was past midnight when the dark form slipped past the streets of the upper town, entering one of the most luxurious houses in Camelot via an unlocked side door.<p>

Inside, he went up the staircase and entered the one room that was still lit.

"Milo, right on time, as always," said the old man sitting behind the desk.

"My Lord Gergond, a pleasure," Milo replied.

"I trust it all went according to plan?" the old Lord inquired in a bored sort of manner.

"Of course, my lord. No one suspected the keys had ever gone missing. I was in King Uther's chambers for no longer than ten minutes. The box was exactly where you said he kept it. Its contents are now yours." He then took out a bag and handed it to Gergond. The man's eyes regarded the item in his hands hungrily.

"You have done an excellent job once again, Milo," he congratulated the man, not moving his gaze from the leather bag. "Your reward is on the table over there…" he concluded and then ignored the mercenary completely.

Milo took the bag of gold from the side table and left the way he came, blending in with the shadows once more.

As soon as he was alone, Lord Gergond of Stiels stood up and opened the locked cupboard on his left, retrieving the sealed letter from within. It had arrived earlier that day and Gergond, being superstitious, didn't want to open it before he was informed of Milo's success in his mission.

He broke the wax impatiently and began reading.

_**To the faithful servant of the late King Uther,**_

_**All is going according to plan. The forces will be ready to strike in a few weeks. I trust you have kept your end of our agreement. I will send word when we'll finally be in position. Contact me through the usual channels. **_

_**L **_

It was good news. Finally, he would have his revenge.

He made sure the letter was destroyed before he retired to his chambers for the night.

* * *

><p><strong>That's it! I hope at least some of you found it interesting...;) It would mean a lot to me if you reviewed; I like to read your opinions and ideas… :D<strong>


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey there… Missed me? -she says hiding behind her chair- Really though. I am extremely sorry for the late update. I have a ton of reasons, but I think all of you understand how real life can get to you sometimes. Anyway, consider this extra long chapter as my apology to you all. Also, I decided to indulge some of you that have asked for some special scenes (mainly Spangley Pony, I think you will understand which parts are written for you when you read them ;) ), so this is a very important chapter to me and I really hope you'll like it…**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 5<strong>

The first weeks of Andria's stay in Camelot could only be described as… well, _weird_.

On the day Lord Aegrid left for Longsdale, Lady Andria received an unexpected visit from her majesty, the Queen of Camelot. It was then that she had told her she knew of her secret, and that she would do anything in her power to help her keep it for as long as Andria felt she needed to do so.

Guinevere Pendragon, Andria had come to realize in the small period of time she knew her, was a _very_ smart woman. As Gwen herself had confided to the young sorceress once over dinner '_when one had to deal with the likes of Arthur as their other half, one had no other option; someone _had_ to be the brains in this family'_. She was also an extremely down-to-earth and easy going person. Evidently, she had decided it was her responsibility to befriend the young girl, try to make her feel welcome and comfortable in her new home. And though the Queen never said it, it was refreshing for Gwen to finally associate with a noble woman who wasn't _twice_ her own age.

Thus, Andria found herself dinning in the Queen's company two or even three times a week. They had become fast friends, spending most of their time together either talking about Prince Aidan's first attempts at sitting, Arthur and Merlin's ongoing bickering –'_I swear sometimes I think he forgets that it's me who's his wife and not Merlin'-, _or the latest gossip that was going around the court. Surprisingly for Andria, the majority of Camelot's population had come to certain -_rather frightening_ - assumptions concerning her growing relationship with the notorious Court Sorcerer. Assumptions that were unfortunately for her the most fascinating developments in Camelot's court life for the past few months, and for that they had become the most popular topic of conversation among nobility and commoners alike.

But who could blame them, really? Andria and Merlin were meeting every other day, always in secluded spaces, a quiet corner in the library, an infrequently used council room, Gaius' quarters. On a most memorable occasion, a maid had caught her sneaking out of the Court Sorcerer's chambers a little after midnight. For days after that last incident, whenever Andria entered a room, everyone would immediately seize talking and simply stare at her.

Gwen had found it extremely amusing, though she had the decency to look contrite after seeing the wounded look on the young girl's –almost burgundy- face.

Andria certainly dreaded to even think of what the rest of Camelot thought she and Merlin were doing behind closed doors, but in a way she was glad for the false gossip. Whatever they were discussing behind her back she was sure it wasn't about her having magic.

And _magic_ was definitely worth every minute of it.

When she had started her first official secret magic lesson, she had expected to have to deal with memorizing countless of spells and perhaps reading a book or two _about_ magic. Instead, her new 'mentor' (Merlin insisted she referred to him as such) had generously gifted her with a pack of heavy volumes that consisted of a study on the language of the Old Religion, the History of Camelot and an Atlas of _Herbology – she was sure that wasn't even a real word-_. When she had looked at him bewildered, Merlin had merely smiled and then proceeded to inform her that she had two days to finish them all. She had been even more shocked when she discovered that when the deadline ended, she was to be _tested_ for them all.

After two of the most hectic days of her life, Andria had successfully passed The Exams -which had been surprisingly easy all things considered- and her education had advanced to a more interesting level.

As the days went by, she found herself more at ease with her magic. Merlin was teaching her control through some exercise in meditation and that lesson always left her feeling pleasantly _balanced_. Then, there were the magical-beasts-of-Albion lessons, which she always enjoyed immensely. Merlin had a way with story-telling and she found it compelling to sit and listen to him narrating every odd adventure he had with Arthur and every peculiar creature they had faced together. She always laughed silly at the King's expense when Merlin would reach the point in the story when the ignorant _Prince_ Arthur got knocked on the head and passed out. Poor Arthur…

The only aspect of her magical studies that was troubling her was the spells. Before she came to Camelot she had managed to learn two simple spells. That alone had taken her quite some time, close to a year even. But being under Merlin's tutelage had made her confident enough to assume that she would take to incantations pretty quickly. So, when Merlin first dictated her to use an easy levitation spell she had been horrified to find out that she still couldn't do it. She wasn't even able to feel the magic of the spell, much less guide it to carry out the appropriate task. Though her new teacher explained to her that it is only natural to experience some difficulties with spells, since she was more of an instinctive magic-user, Andria's disappointment had been enormous. Still, she continued practicing dutifully, hoping one day she would finally succeed in her goal.

* * *

><p>It was close to a month since Merlin had started training Andria and the young warlock felt exhausted. Between his many duties as the Court Sorcerer, his advising King Prat and Andria's magic lessons, he hadn't had more than four uninterrupted hours of sleep. But he wouldn't trade those hours with Andria for anything in the world. It was exhilarating to work with a young magic user, to be the one who shaped and guided her powers and mind, to nurture her strengths and smooth her rough ends. Andria was clay in his hands, and Merlin didn't want anything other than to create a masterpiece with what he was given.<p>

The day had begun like every other, with Travis coming in Merlin's rooms with the warlock's breakfast to find his master already up and dressed. Merlin managed to grab a small loaf of bread and a piece of cheese before he left to meet with Arthur. Gwen would be gone the whole morning, so it was a rare opportunity for the two friends to spend some time alone together. Andria was to go shopping with her in the lower town as well, as the Queen's companion, so that left Merlin's schedule free for some more hours. Apparently, Gwen had decided she needed more fabrics. She was making new outfits for Prince Aidan and Merlin. The warlock had been very alarmed when he realized she wanted to make the two outfits matching- _It was Arthur's son, not mine, damn it! Why can't the prat control his wife?_ – but had let it pass eventually, nobody could stay mad at Gwen for long.

He walked through the corridors, greeting everyone on his way to the King's chambers. The servants smiled politely and bowed, while the occasional noble man would only ground an awkward response and hurry to flee. It was disconcerting to see the mistrust and fear in some of those people's eyes, though Merlin had started getting used to it.

He had just reached his destination, hand out to open the doors to Arthur's rooms when he heard a loud cry coming from inside.

Merlin's instincts immediately kicked in. With a blink of an eye, the door had flung open and he was storming inside, eyes shining golden, hands raised ready to attack.

From the look of it there was no one in the room, though the King's chambers were in an utter mess, more so than usual. Most of the damage seemed to be centered on the dining table, where a wide variety of cutlery, what looked like Arthur's breakfast and some of his finer tunics lay scrambled up, covered with a disturbingly yellow gooey substance that vaguely reminded Merlin of his mother's porridge.

No longer alarmed and with his curiosity rather peaked, the warlock stepped even closer. It was then that the unmistakable giggle of the little prince reached his ears, and the fog of mystery over the whole situation started dissolving. Coming around the table, Merlin was faced with a sight he wanted to cherish for all eternity, and never ever forget.

Arthur was on his knees, tangled inside a bundle of baby blankets, entirely covered by the same sticky goo that was all over the table –which Merlin finally realized was some kind of fruit cream- struggling to feed his baby son, when said son, a child not older than six months old who couldn't even _crawl_ yet, was managing to slip from every single attempt his despaired father made in catching him. If Merlin wasn't a warlock himself he would swear that the child was somehow using magic.

Arthur looked like he was at his wit's end, so Merlin, feeling extremely kind and surprisingly sympathizing towards the prat, bent down and took the little boy in his arms. Aidan's big blue eyes sparkled in recognition and he promptly let out a happy squeal, clearly glad that his 'uncle' Merlin had come to join the fun.

"Merlin!" Arthur finally took notice of his friend. He placed the bowl he had in his hands on the floor and tried to untangle himself with as much dignity as he could muster in his current state of flushed dishevel. Merlin was content to give the little princeling a tight hug and at the same time watch as the king gradually got on his feet.

"Thank Gods… For a minute there I thought I would have to call the guards…" Arthur said, the look in his eyes betraying a slightly panicked frame of mind.

Merlin tried to hide his amusement and sat onto one of the many armchairs in Arthur's quarters, settling the small boy on his legs, while using one hand to hold him and the other to gently stroke his hair.

At first, he actually managed to keep a _straight_ voice.

"Well, as obvious as it is to work out exactly what went down in here, I just have to ask. How on _earth_ did you do it, Arthur?" he couldn't hold his laugher any longer.

_Damn. He had been so close… _

If it was possible, Arthur's face went even redder, his eyes glaring at the chuckling warlock, until Merlin managed to somewhat control his outburst.

"If you must know, _Mer_lin, I was trying to feed my son because he was hungry. There. Are you happy?" he replied coldly.

"Oh, don't be like that, Arthur. And I already said, I had figured as much. But really, only you sire… Just look at the state of all these…" he said, lifting both eyebrows meaningfully. "What gotten into you, Arthur? I thought Gwen had two different nurses to look after Aidan while she was absent…"

Now that Merlin considered it, it was rather odd how the King had been left alone in his rooms with the prince, without the presence of his wife or a nurse maid. Arthur was keeping his eyes on the ground, giving a clear impression of guilt and something… else. If Merlin didn't know him better he would say that Arthur looked scared.

Messing with his friend put aside, Merlin asked genuinely concerned.

"What is wrong, Arthur?"

The King let out a sigh in defeat and went to sit with the warlock. Reaching for his son, he took him in his arms, letting the already tired and sleepy child rest his head happily against his father's chest.

Merlin looked fondly at his friend, recognizing the immense love Arthur felt for his heir.

"He is looks so small when he is asleep…" the words out of Arthurs mouth were soft, almost a whisper.

"Do you think…" he trailed off.

Merlin knew he should not press his friend to continue. Whatever it was that was troubling Arthur, he was too stubborn to admit it if questioned. Thus, the warlock chose to remain silent and wait patiently. And once more, he was proven right.

"Do you believe I can be a good father to him, Merlin?"

_Oh, so that's what all this is about…_

"I mean, I can't even manage to feed him, how will I ever _raise_ him… I'm hopeless with all these…"

Merlin cut him off, preventing the wallowing from getting any further.

"No, Arthur. Don't ever think of it that way..." When the King looked like he was about to protest, he continued. "I _know_ you will be the best father Aidan could ever wish for. You will always _be there_ for your son, I know you will. It is who you are. And Aidan is to grow up and be just like his father, brave and loyal and true of heart, albeit less of an idiot, thankfully he seems to take his brains from Gwen…" He joked, and was happy to notice Arthur was beginning to relax.

"Seriously, though. You already are a _great_ father, Arthur. Your son is lucky to have you. And you should trust me on that. I know what it means to be raised without one."

At that note, he got up and regarded the mess that surrounded them.

"I better clean this up before Gwen gets back… You go put the young one to sleep." Arthur agreed silently, and left with Aidan for the nursery. By the time he was back, Merlin had shorted everything up, and was calmly looking over some budget figures that needed to be checked before this afternoon's council meeting.

"Come look at this, your _majesty_. It is you who will be presenting them to the council after all."

And it was like this that they spend the rest of their time together, pretending to do serious, important work and not bantering silly like the kids they truly were in heart.

* * *

><p>After having lunch with Merlin in his chambers, Arthur left for the early afternoon meeting with the lords of the land. His Court Sorcerer was supposed to join him but Merlin had been informed of some minor <em>magical<em> problems on the outer villages and decided to ride out to check on them before they got out of control. Usually, there were cases of misunderstandings and old prejudices that drove simple villagers to report the odd sorcerer or sorceress who did some kind of 'suspicious looking' magic. Merlin's role was to solve those misconceptions and calm the scared people, though there had been a couple of times when he had made it just in time to save those accused of evil sorcery from being physically hurt by an angry mob with pitch forks. That was exactly why Arthur didn't do anything to stop his friend from going, even if it meant he had to endure all those boring nobles by himself for the rest of the evening.

The actual council went a lot better than Arthur thought it would. The main issue they discussed was the possibility of decreasing the people's taxes due to a surprising increase of gold in Camelot's vaults during the past six months, something most of the council members admitted had to have to do with the return of magic in the kingdom. Arthur smirked inwardly when he thought of how those nobles forgot the years of hatred and fear of magic when they realized it would bring them more gold. The King officially declared victory when one of the older members, a well respected but very strong-minded lord had inquired over Merlin's whereabouts, seeming genuinely concerned the warlock had missed the meeting.

On the other hand though, he hadn't missed the sneers and exasperated glares from the most powerful of his lords. Gergond of Stiels hadn't gone as far as to directly oppose him again or to insult magic in general –and Merlin in particular-, but the King was smart enough to know that it was far from over. Arthur had noticed that the insubordinate lord had lost many of his supporters, though that could easily make the old man more unpredictable and thus more of a danger. Who knew what the vengeful Lord of Stiels could do if he had the chance. As one of Uther's most trusted allies, he was a relic of the past that was bound to cause problems.

Arthur would just have to deal with them when they arose, no need to fret about it.

It was dark when the King finally declared the council's end. Everyone rose from their seats, patiently waiting for their Sovereign to exit the room before they followed.

Lord Gergond was left behind, unnoticed. When the room was empty, he rose calmly from where he was sitting, walked to the top of the table to the King's seat and sat on it, his hands trailing over the complex carvings of the royal armchair. He didn't have to wait long; there was a movement on his right, behind the shadows of one of the pillars.

Milo's hooded figure appeared from the darkness.

"I gather the council didn't go as you wanted, my lord."

The old nobleman shot his cold gaze towards the mercenary.

"On the contrary. I am most pleased with its outcome. It is now clear to me that it's left on me and me _alone_ to do what is right. To save this land from the corruption that is magic. I am even more certain that our cause is just, and our means necessary."

Milo walked close to the table. He extended his hand, leaving a rolled piece of parchment in front of his master. As soon as he realized what it was, Gergond hissed in rage.

"You fool! You are supposed to be careful with those! What if someone caught us? We are still in King Arthur's palace…"

The mercenary was taken aback for a moment, but responded with a steady voice.

"I was careful on my way up here. There aren't even any guards outside, Pendragon has decreased his security…"

That calmed the lord considerably. He took the letter and hurried to open it, breaking the usual wax seal. After he had gone through its contents, Lord Gergond looked at Milo and smiled satisfied.

"Good. Let him stay in his false sense of security. King Lot's troops are finally ready. Tomorrow we make our move."

* * *

><p>It was late at night when Merlin returned at his chambers, exhausted and wet. The rainclouds that had been gathering when he left the castle had developed into a strong storm that blessed the earth with much needed water. It had also resulted in a very drenched warlock that had refused to use his magic as a shield after remembering the teasing he had to put up from Sir Gwaine the one time he had done it.<p>

_See, Gwaine? I am _not_ a girl... _he thought triumphantly.

Travis had gone pale when he had seen the small puddle of water that was forming around his master's feet but he had wisely refrained from any comments. He helped the warlock into a clean outfit and then left him for the night.

Andria arrived shortly after Merlin was done with his supper and was enjoying a cup of wine. She entered quickly, carefully glancing behind her, making sure she hadn't been spotted visiting the Court Sorcerer this late, _again._

"How was your day with the Queen?" he asked, once she was done checking.

"Wonderful! We had lots of fun together. Gwen says I have great taste. You should see some of the fabrics we got, they are… let's say groundbreaking. Actually, you are sure to see them at some point, you are going to wear them_, my lord_…" she said, grinning impishly.

Merlin gave her a brief mortified look before bursting out in laughter.

"Groundbreaking… If someone had told me a year ago that the worst thing that would come of my magic being revealed would be my becoming Gwen's dress-up doll, I would have thought they were mad…" he muttered under his breath.

Andria's shot him an intrigued look.

"What?" he asked, his tone mirthful.

She seemed to hesitate for a moment. "I was just wondering."

"What?"

"About that. Your secret being revealed. I have been enough at court to have heard the tales by now, you know… I'm just curious why we've never talked about it. I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable…" She looked at him carefully, catching the sudden tensing of his shoulders.

Merlin shot her a glance before he got up, his hand reaching for the chain around his neck. He pulled out the amulet Arthur had given him.

"Look at this, Andria. This is supposed to be my sigil, since I now am a noble. But to me, it isn't just that. It's a symbol of acceptance and loyalty from my best friend. A gift I cherish."

She lowered her eyes shamefully. "I never… I didn't mean to insult you, my lord…"

Merlin took her hand in his. "You didn't. I told you this because I wanted to show you that in the end, after all that happened between the King and me, only _this_ is important. This has prevailed. Our_ friendship _and our_ loyalty_. Let that be a lesson to you, to never lose hope, even when all seems lost." He finished, giving her a gentle tag and a small smile.

"Now, it's late already. You should go back to your rooms, my lady. But _carefully_ please! Who knows what your uncle will do to me if you are caught sneaking out of here for the second time this month. Probably challenge me in a duel or something equally ridiculous…" he joked, amused by the glare his apprentice was giving him.

As Andria headed for the door, he added. "And don't you think I have forgotten what tomorrow is! We will celebrate your first month as the official-secret-apprentice of the Court Sorcerer properly. I have a surprise for you…"

Andria's face brightened. "Really?"

Merlin chuckled. "Yes, really. Just be here tomorrow evening, as usual. Good night, my Lady."

"Same to you, my lord," she said and left, as stealthy as she had entered.

When the door closed, Merlin let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. He turned slowly towards the windows. The rain was hitting on the glass, unseen drops of water in the darkness that produced a symphony of sounds, a mesmerizing rhythm of repeated randomness. Cold air was coming through the cracks on the side.

Cold.

Dark.

The sound of drops.

Merlin closed his eyes and suddenly, he was back.

Back to that day.

_He couldn't risk the light. Not yet anyway. He had to first make sure there was no other guard, no one left outside the cell to keep the sorcerer from escaping._

_Sorcerer. You use a magical amulet and the call you a sorcerer._

_Relying on his memory of the place, he walks through the dark corridor. He can already hear the sounds coming from its far end, a small whimper. _

_Slowly he reaches the cell's door. No guards. _

_Through a small widow- more of a hole on the wall really - a faint light is coming through allowing him to barely see a frail form hidden amongst the shadows. Outside the dawn must be breaking then. _

_No more time to lose._

_He holds his hands in front of the bars._

"_**Ic ia tóspringe"**_

_The cell door opens. Inside, the man that was wallowing in the darkness was standing still, holding his breath. _

_The poor soul looks like he is expecting the final blow._

"_**Leoht" **_

_There. That should be enough to see._

_The prisoner blinks his eyes repeatedly. It takes him some moments to get used to the pale light. When his eyesight is restored he regards the form of the man standing beside the unlocked door. His face betrays a hint of recognition._

"_You…" the prisoner says in wonder._

_Outside, the day is coming. Their time is running out._

"_Come, we must hurry…"_

_The prisoner understands and in a moment they are running together into the depths of the castle._

_The siege tunnels of Camelot are even darker. He goes first, lighting the way, while the prisoner is struggling to keep up, his feet still numb from the hours of forced confinement in that small space._

_He lets the light fade when he senses a small breeze of air. And there, just at the end of the tunnel, a dim light shines._

_An exit._

_Just then he hears a noise from behind._

_They both still for an endless moment._

_Nothing comes._

_He grabs the prisoner's hand and forces him to move._

_And just like that, they had reached the light. _

_He uses the same spell for the iron-barred doors and once they are out, the prisoner turns to him, his eyes full of determination and something more. _

_Hope._

"_I will never forget this," he says to his savior, and then he is fleeing, running as far as he can before the sun rises and the shadows that keep him safe vanish. _

_Merlin watches the man run away._

_He is pleased, one more innocent life saved. He doesn't want to think of the man that had condemned him. He trusts in destiny to know the right time for the king to find out the truth._

_Until then, he will have to just be there, whenever a wrong must be righted._

_He draws back to the darkness. His footsteps are lighter now and he notices things he hadn't gotten the chance to notice when he was running through the dark tunnels earlier. Like the musty smell of the old rocks, or the sound of water drops leaking, a steady rhythm of tap tap that is oddly soothing. He risks some light, in order not to get lost in the maze he is currently walking through. _

_He goes into the dungeons to find nothing has changed since he left. _

_He moves carefully, trying to focus on any sound that might be coming from the guards at the front stairs. _

_Nothing. _

_He ends the spell, the soft light dies in his palm, and he gets out of the dungeons._

_The two guards are sleeping on the table by the entrance._

_He doesn't know what drives him to move then, if it is some kind of fate or pure curiosity, but he turns to observe them, the guards that are laying there looking peaceful in their slumber._

_He should have known better than to let his guard down. He should have been more careful, more observant._

_Cause it is then, the moment he moves his body towards the two sleeping figures that he hears the familiar sound of a sword being drawn from behind him._

_He should be too scared to move. But he does anyway._

_He turns in one slow move and regards the figure that is coming out of the dark._

_The light hair that shine even to the torchlight from the wall._

_The icy blue eyes that glimmer with something incomprehensible. Or perhaps with rage and betrayal._

_The almost trembling hands that clutch the invincible sword._

_The form of his best friend and King._

_Arthur._

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><p><strong>There you have it. The magic reveal! Please REVIEW and tell me what you think of it?<strong>

**I'll try and update sooner next time…. :) **


	6. Chapter 6

**I want to thank my two reviewers, **_**olo**_** and **_**sprangley**_**: You guys are awesome. It is thanks to you that this fic is not being abandoned. **

**In this chapter stuff actually **_**happens**_**, so perhaps, I dunno… it'll get more reviews? Maybe?**

**Anyway, I'll stop whining now. Enjoy the new chapter!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 6<strong>

The headache Merlin experienced the following morning had been enough to make him swear never to touch wine again. He was in a foul mood when Travis finally showed up with his breakfast and helped him into his work clothes. If Merlin had been more alert he would have protested profoundly to being treated like a child, or worse, like _Arthur._ But he was still very much asleep and, though he would never admit it, a little hung over his late night recollections as well. So he let it go for once.

He poked absentmindedly at his breakfast while Travis was working around the room in silence. Tired of brooding about last night and the unwanted memories it had resurfaced, the young warlock tried to focus his attentions on something less painful. He regarded his manservant with fondness. The young man was unusually quiet today and Merlin did not fail to notice a strange tightness in the way he held himself. Eager to learn if there was something wrong with the man, he didn't hesitate to ask.

"Are you feeling alright, Travis? There is something off with you today…"

The manservant stopped in his tracks, but didn't turn to face his master when he answered, strangely tense.

"No, my lord. Everything is fine."

Merlin nodded reluctantly. He was sure he had just been lied to. He tried to remember what he knew of his manservant. If memory served him right, the young man had a fiancée somewhere in the outer villages. Perhaps a lovers' quarrel?

He inquired as such. "What was the name of your young lady again? …Rosa? Have you done something to make her mad, Travis? Come now, you can talk to me…"

"Rosie…" the boy's quiet tone indicated that Merlin had been correct in his assumptions.

Ah… Young _love_.

"Don't you worry, Travis," he said, while he got up to leave, "I am sure she will forgive whatever it is you have done very soon. Now, I am off to the market, I'll be back here for lunch. Don't work too hard, do you hear me?"

Travis shook his head in reply, not turning until Merlin had already left the room, so that his master did not see the look of pain and desperation on his pale face.

* * *

><p>Merlin entered the store quietly, not wanting to cause a scene. Thankfully, it was empty at the moment. He promptly made his way to the counter and rang the small bell on top. The old merchant appeared not a minute later, coming out of the storage room holding a pile of old books and rolled parchments. When he realized who his current client was, he let out a yelp and dropped his load, resulting in a loud crush that was probably heard throughout the entire town.<p>

Merlin rolled his eyes and moved to help with the mess on the floor, careful not to use any magic. It was then that the merchant thankfully remembered his manners and the fact that Merlin was a _lord_ and hurried to stop him.

"Please, my lord! There is no need, I can take care of that," he said, grabbing the books and papers from Merlin's hands and tossing them on the oak counter.

"I was just startled to see you here, my lord. I thought you'd send your servant to collect the item, I really didn't mean to be rude. Please forgive my…"

"It's quite alright, I assure you. Don't worry about it," Merlin replied good-naturedly. "Do you have it, then?"

The merchant nodded eagerly and briefly duck behind the counter. When he got up, he was holding a beautiful silver bracelet. The intricate flower patterns on it were decorated with small emeralds and rubies, resulting in a piece of jewelry fit for a queen. Merlin took it in his hands to have a closer look.

"It's perfect," he said with a smile. He took out a leather pouch and dropped it in front of the merchant. "I trust that's enough?"

The old man eyed the pouch of gold hungrily before he responded.

"Why of course it is, my lord. It was a pleasure doing business with you."

* * *

><p>Arthur was having a very nice morning. After spending an hour with his family, he had gone to his duties, only to find out that Lord Gergond had decided to leave Camelot for his home castle in Stiels. The young King had been eager to bid the insufferable man goodbye, glad he would be rid of him so easily.<p>

Nevertheless, Arthur wasn't naïve enough not to be at least a little alarmed with the sudden departure. The castle of Stiels was a strong fortress that would be ideal for gathering a hostile army, and the king knew he had to be even more careful now. But still, not having to see the old man everyday was enough of a blessing for Arthur to not think of the money he'd have to spend on hiring spies to survey the lord's movements and to just feel content.

Lord Gergond left Camelot mid-morning in the company of a small party of guards that belonged to his household. A few hours before his departure he made sure to give Milo his precious new acquisition, along with specific instructions as to what he had to do.

So, Milo thought, as he watched the party leave through the main gates, it was time for him to move.

He found it amusing that no one even noticed him slip inside the Court Sorcerer's chambers. It wasn't even dark, no shadows for him to slip through, but as he had said to Lord Gergond already, Pendragon had let his guard down, had fallen in a false sense of safety.

Inside the warlock's workroom, he found the young manservant, just like he had expected he would. He let the doors close loud enough for his presence to be known and was rewarded with the surprised look on Travis' face. A look that soon molted into one of desperation. He couldn't help the smirk.

"Good news, Travis. The time has finally come for you to be of service once more. After that you will, you _both will,_ be free," he said casually.

The young man let his shoulders drop. He couldn't raise his eyes to meet Milo's sharp gaze, but he managed to muster enough strength to speak loud enough so he could hear him.

"Very well. What do you want me to do?"

When he didn't get a response he dared to look up.

The dangerous glint in the mercenary's eyes made him instantly regret it.

* * *

><p>Merlin ended up spending another couple of hours roaming around the market, buying various things, from missing ingredients to old books with folk tales about magic and dragons. He even bought a new neckerchief, determent not to let it fall in the clutches of the Queen like his old ones.<p>

When he finally made it back to his chambers, he was greeted by the enticing smell of freshly baked bread and roasted meat. Looking around, he failed to spot Travis, and concluded that the manservant had grown tired of waiting for him and had gone off to do another chore. He walked to the table where his lunch was waiting for him, leaving every item he bought on the floor for later sorting, expert for the bracelet. He would have to start working on it right away if he wanted it to be ready before Andria arrived in the evening.

He had found some nice protective spells that would work well enough with the fine metal and the result would be a rare piece of sorcery indeed. He felt strangely guilty as he began chanting the first spell, acutely aware he was creating an item similar to the one Morgana had gotten from her sister all those years ago.

Finishing with the first spell, he took the goblet of water Travis had left for him near his meal and drank from it. When he had clenched his thirst, he picked up the bracelet once again.

He had only enough time to register a strange numbing feeling spreading through him before a sharp pain exploded in his head and he was lost in darkness.

* * *

><p>Arthur had gotten carried away reading the latest reports from the eastern boarders and was late for his dinner with Guinevere. It was after midnight and he had just finished apologizing to his wife when the chamber doors opened and in came a guard informing him that there had been an emergency and he was needed at the great hall.<p>

When he arrived there he was met with the familiar sight of his best knights, Sir Percival, Sir Leon, Sir Elyan and Sir Gwaine, along with some other nobles and a few servants. They were all gathered around someone, he couldn't see who it was, but they all seemed alarmed.

When they noticed the King was there, they all parted and soon enough Arthur was face to face with Lord Gergond of Stiels. He took a moment to take note of the dirty clothes and the blood on the older nobleman's face before he asked him what had happened.

Lord Gergond looked oddly submissive when he answered the King's question.

"We were on our way to Stiels, Sire, when it happened. We had just entered a small village called Clearwaters when we suddenly found ourselves surrounded by bandits. They were too many, Sire. I alone managed to escape, on horseback. I'm afraid the rest of my company is dead."

No one spoke, waiting to see the King's reaction. Before Arthur had the chance to do anything, Lord Gergond added.

"They had a _sorcerer_ with them, Sire. I saw it with my own eyes," he said coldly. The look on his face was betraying a strange satisfaction. Arthur winched inwardly when he thought of all the progress he had had with the nobles concerning the matter of magic being lost due to some brigand magic user. "When I left, they were attacking the village, taking the women and children and killing all the rest…"

"You said you were outnumbered. How many of them were there?" Arthur replied unaffected.

The nobleman considered for a moment. "Twenty, give or take a few. But the sorcerer was…"

"He is but one villain in twenty then. He will be dealt with as such," Arthur interrupted.

He turned to George, his new manservant always a discrete presence in the background.

"George, find Merlin and tell him to meet us here. We will ride out as soon as he gets here," he gestured to his most trusted knights and they all nodded in agreement.

"Lord Gergond, you should go see Gaius, make sure you are unharmed," he added, when he remembered the wretched state of the man.

The Lord of Stiels quietly agreed with the King and soon he was being escorted to the Court physician's chambers for treatment.

Arthur was discussing with Elyan, Gwaine, Percival and Leon the tactics they would have to use, when George arrived with some unfortunate news.

"What do you mean he isn't there? Where the hell can he possibly be at this hour?" the King asked frustrated. "Find his manservant immediately. Perhaps he knows where we can find him."

George returned a few minutes later with a disheveled Travis on his tow. The boy bowed to him clumsily.

Arthur cut to the chase. "Where is Lord Merlin?" he demanded.

The boy hesitated for a moment, and then muttered an answer.

"He… he went to search for a rare herb, Sire. He said it grows deep in the Darkling Woods and can only be picked at night, so he won't be back until the morning…"

Arthur looked incredulously at the servant in front of him. The boy squirmed under the king's glare.

"You mean to tell me that the one time we have dire need of our Court Sorcerer he is out _collecting FLOWERS_?"

The poor servant managed to avoid being hit on the head by the goblet that flew in his direction.

Arthur tried in vain to control his temper. Leon was eyeing him wearily. He took a deep breath and made his decision.

"Alright then. We cannot wait for the sunrise; it might be too late for the villagers. If we leave now we will be there just after dawn. The moment Merlin is back, he is to follow us to Clearwaters. Tell him to use magic, do whatever it takes to reach us as soon as possible. You are all dismissed. We depart in half an hour."

* * *

><p>Andria couldn't sleep. She was very confused and a great deal disappointed with Merlin's sudden disappearance. She had reached the Court Sorcerer's chambers earlier that night, only to find them locked. When she had knocked, she hadn't gotten an answer and after a few awkward minutes of wait, she had reluctantly returned to her own rooms.<p>

He had probably had some emergency to deal with. She could understand that. Her mentor was a very busy man. It didn't help with the frustration she was currently feeling though. He had promised her they would celebrate her first month of lessons. He even spoke of a _surprise_.

What if this was all an elaborate plan to catch her completely off guard and surprise her then?

She was startled to hear a knock on her door. She went to answer at once, thinking it might be Merlin after all. To her astonishment, it was Gwen that was outside her door, looking more than a little troubled.

She let her inside.

"What is it, your majesty?" she asked, alarmed.

"Arthur and the knights have just left for an outer village. They were informed of a sorcerer's attack."

Andria was confused. "Did Merlin not go with them? I was supposed to meet him earlier, but when I went to his rooms they were locked…" perhaps this explained the warlock's absence.

"No, he didn't. That is what is troubling me. Arthur and the others are all out to face a magic user _without_ him. Apparently he had to go herb picking _at night_ or so his manservant claims…"

Worry filled the young sorceress. There was no way that Merlin would miss their meeting to go pick _herbs_.

Gwen saw her reaction and frowned. "What is wrong…?" she asked.

"That is impossible. Something is definitely wrong. Tonight he had promised me we would celebrate my first month as his apprentice; he even had a gift and everything. I thought something more important must have come up but _herb picking?_ No… it must be a lie."

The Queen didn't doubt her logic.

"I thought it strange as well, but now I am sure there is more to it. I can't help the feeling that Arthur is in danger. And Merlin suddenly has gone missing… I really hope nothing has happened to him."

She grabbed the young noble by the arm and led her out of the room.

"Go find Gaius and your brother, Andria. We may need their help. Let us all meet in Merlin's chambers, perhaps we'll find some clue of his whereabouts there. I'll go find his manservant. Oh, and Andria, be careful what you say, Lord Gergond might still be with Gaius."

With that last statement, she left for the main hall, leaving a slightly confused but otherwise determent Andria behind.

* * *

><p>When she entered Gaius's chambers she found the old physician and her brother talking in hushed voices, faces grave. After she was done explaining her story to them, they both agreed she was right and soon enough they had all arrived outside of Merlin's chambers, only to find them still locked. Gaius had told Andria of Lord Gergond's role in the matters, and he had also added that though his clothes were dirty and bloodied, underneath it all the man was unharmed. <em>So much <em>in fact, that it seemed as if he hadn't even been in a battle…

Gaius was beginning to consider using magic to unlock the doors, when Gwen joined them. She was looking even more concerned if possible.

"I cannot find Travis. He was last seen in the great hall, about an hour ago. I have a key to the door though…" she continued to open the door.

Inside, there was complete darkness. No candle was lit, and the light from the moon was blocked by the heavy drapes that were drawn. Andria used the _forbearnan_ spell to light the closest candle and then continued to find the rest. Soon, there was plenty of light for everyone to see clearly. They began searching for anything that could give them a sign of Merlin's fate. Andria looked at the forgotten tray of lunch on the table. It wasn't touched. So whatever had happened to Merlin it must have been before noon. She turned to look at one of the closest working counters and she almost missed seeing something on the floor, behind one of the chairs. She picked it up. It was a small silver bracelet, beautifully decorated with stones, but that wasn't what caught her attention. It was the resident feeling of magic upon it. Familiar and soothing, she could recognize it as _Merlin's_ anywhere. Andria found herself unable to breathe. _This_ was the surprise, her gift, she was sure of it. She was also sure that Merlin would never leave such a precious item disregarded on the floor.

Something had happened to him. She was certain.

She was about to call the others when she heard Henry's cry. It was coming from the direction of Merlin's bedchamber. Gaius and Guinevere both stopped searching and looked at each other. They all started for the door, but Andria got there first.

Inside she found her brother on the ground, trembling from fear and dread, over a slim, motionless body that belonged to a man.

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><p><strong>Who could it be, I wonder? Is the man <strong>_**really**_** dead? I guess you'll just have to wait and find out… **

**And don't forget. Reviews=Love, so Gimme Some Lovin'!**


	7. Chapter 7

**See? I updated very, very soon… I have to say it was because of all your wonderful reviews that I found the inspiration to write this chapter. Thank you all!**

**To lloranpiedras: your review was amazing! It made me so happy that you like the fic, and only for the fact that you referred to my 'Gwen forcing formal clothes on Merlin' joke you deserve to be especially mentioned! So thank you very much ;)**

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><p><strong>Chapter 7<strong>

"Is it him? Let me see…" Gaius gasped as he quickly moved through the frozen figures of Andria and Guinevere. He kneeled before the body, his hands searching frantically for a sign of life, anything. In the darkness of the bedchamber, Andria could only focus on her brother's still trembling frame, her mind refusing to accept the fact that it might be her mentor who was lying there, cold and lifeless. It felt like an endless moment until Gaius let out a loud sigh and his head fell heavy into his aged hands.

Andria held her breath in dread.

"It's too late. He is gone…" the physician whispered. Beside her, Andria could hear Gwen quietly sobbing, but still the young noble girl refused to understand. She refused to accept what they were suggesting.

That Merlin was gone. Just like that.

She simply couldn't comprehend it.

Gaius was examining the body again. The body, _Merlin._ How could something like this have ever happened? He was supposed to be the most powerful of them all. Andria felt panic rise inside her. She always considered her mentor was, in most ways, invincible.

Gaius' voice interrupted her confused thoughts. The old man sounded strange.

"Something is wrong…" his hands were grabbing at the man's clothes, though his eyes were failing to see clearly in the darkness of the cold room.

"…this is not _him_, it's not Merlin…" the physician said louder, his tone more certain. Everyone around him jolted in surprise. Henry, who had managed to move away from the lifeless man and had been standing near his sister, clutched Andria's shoulder in a tight grasp, as if she was the only thing preventing him from falling. She probably was, come to think of it.

"_I can't see_… I need more light!" the old physician exclaimed impatiently, urgency seeping out of him, and Andria agreed. The needed to know, to be absolutely certain that Merlin wasn't the one lying there cold, and that they still had time to find him. The girl felt a surge of powerful emotions rise inside her. Hope and fear, joy and trepidation, relief and guilt.

Gwen was gone for what seemed like an eternity but probably was less than a minute. When the Queen came back, she was holding a candle in her still trembling hands. If Andria had been in a clearer state of mind she would have scolded herself for not thinking of lighting a fire in the first place. Slowly, Gwen approached Gaius and the dead man, letting the flickering light of the candle's flame reveal the identity of the unmoving figure.

It was the young manservant. The _boy._ Travis.

An ocean of emotions swept through the young sorceress when she saw with her own eyes that the man was in fact _not_ Merlin. It was like a dam had broken inside her and all those conflicting feelings rose up to drown her. She couldn't stop the tears from running down her face.

She didn't register Henry hugging her tightly. She didn't take notice of Gwen's sympathetic eyes resting upon her. She didn't even hear Gaius declaring that Travis had died from a single stab in the chest.

The only thing she understood was that there was a man lying dead in front of her and all she could think of was _"Thank the Gods it's not Merlin…"_

She was a _horrible_ person. But then again, she couldn't help it.

It was all about Merlin.

* * *

><p>The first thing the young warlock noticed when he regained consciousness was that he couldn't see anything. He wasn't sure if it was due to being surrounded by darkness or the results of a blindfold. He was still feeling a little woozy and his head was simply <em>throbbing<em>. He groaned, well he_ tried to_ but soon discovered that he was apparently gagged as well. _Figures_. He recognized the stale taste of fabric in his dry mouth.

He knew it was a long shot, but he tried to move anyway. Of course he was bound. His legs felt numb beneath the ankles, circulation almost cut by the tight constraints. His hands were in front of him, tied fast with what felt like cold, hard metal that went around his wrists, making it nearly impossible for him to move them even in the slightest. Judging from the meticulously done bindings, Merlin came to the logical conclusion that this had all been predesigned.

_When will these people learn that mere ropes and metal cannot possibly contain me?_

He sighed inwardly, began squirming impatiently, feeling more vexed than concerned about his current predicament, and finally he focused on destroying his bounds.

It was when nothing happened that he started feeling alarmed. And it was when he stiffened, body going completely still while his mind was trying to reach for the endless source of magic inside him, that he heard the amused chuckle of his captor.

"Nice to know the _mighty_ sorcerer has finally joined us."

Merlin couldn't recognize the voice of the man mocking him. Still, he decided he had to stay calm and try to take as much control of the situation as he could, if he wanted to make it out of wherever he was alive and relatively unharmed.

He tried to make his body relax and then he waited, certain that whomever was that had captured him wouldn't want him to get too comfortable. Soon enough, the mysterious man was over Merlin, untying the blindfold around his eyes, only for the warlock to close them again when the other man slapped him in the face. The warlock kept his temper contained, and instead of retaliating in any way he chose to let it go. His face still stung when he turned to carefully observe his surroundings.

It wasn't what he was expecting to see, that was certain. What Merlin thought would be a dark cell beneath the castle, or perhaps a damp cave outside the city walls, was in fact a simple room with some furniture and a small, unlit fireplace. No windows, _surprise, surprise._ There was a candle on the small table beside him, shinning its dim light in the otherwise dark room. His captor had returned to his seat beside the table, the man's hands playing idly with a small dagger, while his eyes were regarding the warlock with an excited and -if Merlin wanted to be completely honest with himself- quite disturbing glint.

Merlin's gaze traveled upon his bindings. His legs were wrapped excruciatingly tight with some thick rope, but the contraption that was holding his hands together was something he had never seen in his life before. In a way they could be described as shackles, but clearly they were much more than that. The two wide bands of metal around his wrists were decorated with runes. The reason he could see said runes was that they actually _glowed_ in the darkness. And instead of chains holding the two bands together it was a wide metal spring of some sort. It too was faintly emitting a low light.

He cursed his luck. Well he would if the damned man had removed his gag as well. Those bounds were obviously of magical origin_. How do I always manage to end up in this kind of situations?_ If Arthur were there, he would probably have an answer to that question. Or two.

The young warlock briefly returned his attention to his captor. Seeing that the man didn't appear all too eager to start a conversation, but instead kept staring at his victim with unnerving eyes, Merlin figured he should start planning an escape.

Perhaps his magic wasn't completely out of reach. He closed his eyes and tried again to concentrate. At first he couldn't feel anything. But then, after a minute or two, he finally sensed it. A small trail of magic, almost nothing but a faint feeling. Not like the endless stream of power he had learned to expect. But still, it was _something_.

He began working on it, trying to find a way to gain access to his locked powers, when a door that he had failed to see in the dim light of the single candle, opened with force and in came a large hooded figure.

* * *

><p>A white sheet covered the prone figure that was now lying on the Court Sorcerer's bed. Andria couldn't bear to look at him anymore. She had felt <em>relieved<em> when she first found out it hadn't been her mentor but his poor manservant that was dead and the guilt of it was driving her mad.

At first they all had gone numb, but then Gaius intervened, once again reminding everyone that Merlin was still missing and if they were to ever find the person responsible for Travis' death they had to act quickly, for the lad's death had certainly to do with his master's sudden disappearance.

They searched the poor boy's clothes, looking for anything that could give them a clue of who his attacker was, of what had happened to Merlin. They found nothing.

Gwen decided they couldn't wait any longer; Merlin's life, and perhaps even _Arthur's_, was in danger. She sent Henry to call the captain of the guards, and when he arrived she ordered every single guard in the castle to start looking for the missing warlock. The queen decided she would lead the search herself, feeling unable to stand by and do nothing but wait.

That left Gaius, Henry and Andria alone in the Court Sorcerer's chambers. After the last of the guards had left, carrying the body of the unfortunate manservant with them, Gaius spoke to his ward's pupil.

"Andria, child, bring out Merlin's book of spells, please. There is something I want to try…"

The girl did as she was asked. When the old book was open in front of the physician, she spoke.

"What is it, Gaius?" she sounded hesitant. She had thought of using magic to find Merlin, of course she had, but it was of no use. She was the only magic user in the vicinity and she couldn't even properly use spells yet. To know that her powers were useless, now that she needed them the most, made Andria feel extremely frustrated.

The physician didn't answer immediately. He went on, exploring the book, not reading the spells but turning the pages as if he knew exactly what he was looking for.

"Ah… There it is! The tracking spell," he said determent.

Andria was perplexed. "Gaius, how do you…?"

The answer came so quickly that she was sure the physician had been expecting her inquiry.

"This used to be _my_ book of spells. Many, many years ago."

That Andria was definitely not expecting.

"Let's see if I still have it in me, shall we?"

* * *

><p>When the hooded man entered the small room, Merlin's captor rose to his feet. The warlock accurately interpreted this gesture as a sign of respect. <em>So this is the leader<em>.

When the man removed his hood it all became clear to the warlock.

Of course it would be Gergond of Stiels.

Merlin glared at the older man. He could see the cold resolution in the nobleman's eyes. Once again, Merlin had the feeling this wasn't a simple act of hatred. It was part of an elaborate plan, and the young warlock was almost certain that it wasn't just his life on the line. The need to escape, to stop the Lord of Stiels from succeeding, became unbearable when he thought of all his friends being in danger.

Lord Gergond came closer. Merlin could practically see the satisfaction seeping from him. He turned to the other man, who was lurking behind, hidden in the shadows.

"Good job, Milo. Now, it is time for the second phase of our little rebellion. I trust you won't fail me," he said coldly, praise and poorly concealed threat weaved in one simple statement.

The other man, Milo, bowed his head and then left the room, probably to set the rest of their plans in motion. Merlin felt the urgent need to break free, to stop them from hurting anyone else, mainly the people he loved. Arthur, Gaius, Gwen. Andria. He began focusing again, desperately trying to access his powers.

* * *

><p>The minute they were alone, Lord Gergond moved to the table. On it, he found the small silver dagger that Milo usually carried with him. He knew why the mercenary had left it there. A gift and a convenience to his lord and master. Yes, Milo deserved every piece of gold he charged. The old lord had never trusted anyone else as much as he trusted him. He was sure that the efficient mercenary would carry out his task perfectly. And then, Camelot would finally be free of sorcery and the mad King that supported its use.<p>

Thinking of sorcery, he let his eyes rest upon the vile form of the man in front of him. Even in the low light he could see the sorcerer looking at him with hate and determination written upon his face. Gergond regarded the man silently. He was very different from the servant boy he could only faintly remember. The sorcerer was lying bound on the floor but his stance betrayed an air of confidence, an air of conceited pride that should always be beaten out of those born less than noble. Lord Gergond felt anger rise inside him. How dared this lowlife, this _bastard_ peasant, behave like a noble born? How dared he call himself a _lord_? He had long bewitched the weak-minded fool that now sat on the throne, but to see him slowly getting accepted by the other nobles, _his betters_, was unthinkable to the old Lord. It was time he dealt with this _Merlin_, once and for all.

* * *

><p>"Come on! Over there…" she shouted.<p>

The men hurried to keep up with the woman in front of them. They were alone in the streets, the houses of the lower town disappearing around them, engulfed in the dark veil of the black night. They ran, following the light of the torch she was holding in her delicate hands, a light that was soon fading behind yet another dark corner.

When they went around the corner they almost failed to notice the dark figure hiding behind some fallen crates by the wall of one of the old warehouses.

Almost.

* * *

><p>"Do you like them?" Lord Gergond's cold voice loomed in the small room.<p>

Merlin tried not to be distracted. He was almost there, he had followed the trail inside him and now he could feel the magic behind the alien barrier that cut through his core and stopped his most vital connection with the weave of the world. He just needed a little more _time_.

"The shackles. Do you enjoy them, _my lord_?" the old man continued, taunting.

Merlin remained unbothered. Why should he let it get to him? Even if he wanted to respond, he couldn't. There was still a cloth in his mouth. And he certainly would never give the vile man the pleasure of demeaning him even more by trying to speak through the firmly tied fabric. He still had his integrity unscathed.

Gergond kneeled beside him. In his hand, the blade's sharp flash promptly engaged Merlin's attention completely. He let the tip of the dagger rest upon the shackles, slowly trailing the complicated rune patterns that decorated them.

"It is a rare thing that an item of magic can be used for a good and true cause. These belonged to King Uther himself, you know. You should feel proud, sorcerer. He always kept them for his most deadly enemies…" he lifted the dagger, turning it to face the warlock's eyes and finally settling it against his stretched neck.

Merlin gulped anxiously. He hadn't had time for panic, he had to act fast, or else the consequences would be grave indeed.

"Are you ready … Sorcerer? Are you afraid?" he whispered, looking deep in Merlin's eyes. He must not had found what he was looking for, because his eyes turned from ice cold to burning fire within seconds. For a moment Merlin thought it was Uther that held a blade to his neck, and not the old Lord of Stiels.

"Insolent to the end, aren't you? Well, there is no one to save you now…"

The moment the blade pierced Merlin's skin the door blasted open and lord Gergond was sent flying to the wall. He fell down with a loud thud, dead before he had even reached the floor.

Merlin blinked, trying to adjust to the light of half a dozen torches suddenly barging in the small room. The first thing he saw was Andria's worried face inches away from his own.

* * *

><p>Arthur and the knights' party rode silently into the darkness. They didn't stop more than twice and even then it was for a few minutes and only to water their horses. In total they were fifteen men. Arthur and his most trusted knights were ridding ahead, while the others were following.<p>

Dawn came and the King of Camelot sped up. They were running out of time, they had to arrive to Clearwaters soon; else there wouldn't be anything left for them to save.

It took them almost another full hour of frantic ridding before Arthur slowed down. Over the other side of the small hill, was the village of Clearwaters. He knew he should be careful not to make their arrival known immediately. Not before he had evaluated the situation and formed a plan.

When the party reached the top of the hill they were surprised by the sight that greeted them.

Less than half a mile ahead was the small village, looking completely and utterly normal. Not a single house was aflame; no bodies lay on the ground around it, no screams could be heard from the women and children being driven away into slavery. The village was perfectly safe.

It was a lie. Lord Gergond had lured him out of Camelot on false pretences.

He heard the neighing of horses before he saw them. Riding out of the edge of the forest where they had stayed hidden, dozens of men dressed in yellow and black, holding the lion banners of Lot. And when he turned around, Arthur came face to face with the King himself.

It was a trap.

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><p><strong>Well, the plan is almost completely out in the open. Please remember to review if you liked the chapter. In the next one everything becomes clear, I promise. Well almost everything.<strong>

**To those of you who suspected that it was Travis and not Merlin I must say: good call.**

**But let it be known that I am not taking the blame of Travis' death! No. This is what happens when you don't review people! I get depressed and my poor OCs pay the price! I had such plans for Travis; I wanted to marry him off to a nice girl, let him find absolution… If you really think about it he is a very tragic figure. Oh well… it is entirely your fault for making me kill him in the first place… (Ok, I realize how insane this sounds …)**

**Bottom-line is: I need your reviews to keep me sane, and off a killing spree…**


	8. Chapter 8

**Thank you for your lovely reviews! I appreciate each immensely…**

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><p><strong>Chapter 8<strong>

Merlin still struggled to see the men that were surrounding him. He could not move, couldn't stand, couldn't do much other than wait for his pupil to free him. Andria was looking at the shackles around his wrists. He could feel the heat radiating from them, a result of the fight his magic had put up, and was still putting up against the enchanted restraints. Thankfully, it didn't take long for Andria to figure out what was going on. He heard her upset voice as she called for the guards to help her.

"We MUST get these off! I need a key, something… Search Lor… _the man's_ body if you have to… Quick, help me get the ropes off… Careful…"

Merlin was amazed that still, despite his current predicament, he found it quite endearing the way Andria's panicked orders were being followed so absolutely. She was born to command, that girl.

He couldn't tell how much time had passed, probably a few minutes, until he heard one of the guards shout he had found the key. The man promptly gave the small item to Andria, while simultaneously whispering something in her ear, too low for the warlock to make out what it was. He did manage to see though, the blood leaving Andria's flushed face, her expression turning more determined and then, just like that, the shackles were finally off.

* * *

><p>Andria watched with relief as Merlin's countenance changed in front of her. His body grew stronger, standing up with ease, his expression going from strained to firm, strong, while his eyes sparkled with their familiar gold. She had been right to suspect that whatever the shackles were, they were effecting his powers, making him weak, unable to fight back.<p>

Merlin got up as fast as he could.

"Are you alright?" he asked her, looking worried like he hadn't been the one held hostage.

"Shouldn't I be the one asking you that, my Lord?" she replied. It was so easy to tease her mentor, to fall back to the easy way they held their private conversations, something she had come close to lose forever. She dreaded to think what could have happened if she had been a moment late.

_Thank the heavens for Gaius' spell. _ The charm had guided her to Merlin, and, as far as Andria could tell, it was the only reason the warlock was still alive and breathing.

"Tell me what happened. Now, Andria," the absolute tone of Merlin's demand left her with no choice but to comply. But first, she needed to take care of the girl.

"I will, my Lord. We must hurry back to the castle; I will explain everything on our way. I just have to do one more thing…" she replied, holding his gaze without wavering. After a moment's hesitation, he nodded briefly, lowering his eyes in acceptance.

Following one of the guards, she found herself in the small room at the other side of the building. A young girl was curled up in one of the corners. No man dared to move close to her trembling form. Andria quickly kneeled in front of her.

"Shhh…. It's alright. You're safe."

The young woman lifted her head gingerly. Tears could be seen still running on the side of her round face. She focused her scared eyes on Andria. When she spoke, her voice was nothing more than a whisper.

"…Travis?"

Andria couldn't meet her pleading eyes. "Come... You need to see a physician…" she said, avoiding the girl's question. It was coming all together now, why Travis lied to the King. Blackmail of the foulest, most treacherous kind. She couldn't bear to think of it much longer. When the girl was finally up, safely tucked in the arms of one of the guards, Andria made her way to Merlin.

* * *

><p>The small amount of time it took for the Court Sorcerer of Camelot and his apprentice to reach the palace's Great Hall had been enough for him to learn of what had occurred in the past hours.<p>

Lord Gergond's betrayal hadn't been much of a surprise to the young warlock. His years in Camelot's court had given him enough experiences to never truly trust those who have power. He knew they always craved for more, and often plotted against those who they didn't understand and for that reason were considered a threat. Death had put an end at the man's plans, but still, Merlin recognized that the crisis was far from over. The King had left hours ago, and everything pointed out that he was ridding into a trap.

There were a lot of people gathered inside the Hall when Merlin burst through the doors. A large crowd of knights and nobles –Merlin could see at least half of the council was present- had formed a circle around a dark clad figure lying on the floor in front a very angry Gwen. As soon as she saw him, the Queen let out a relieved cry and rushed to embrace her friend.

Merlin let her squeeze him for what felt like a full minute, before he moved from her hold and gently asked to be informed of what was going on.

"He was caught leaving the warehouse you were found. He confessed to conspiring with the Lord of Stiels. He was sent to…" Gwen took a moment to compose herself. Fighting the tears away, Gwen continued in a grave tone.

"He claims there is an army outside the city walls. His task was to open the gates and let the enemy in. With Arthur and the others away, and you _dead_, they expected Camelot would fall to chaos, an easy target…" she finished, looking down to the man with nothing but contempt.

Merlin recognized his captor from before. When he turned to face him, all the nobles and people surrounding the traitor stepped back. The warlock approached steadily, until he was looming over the other man.

"I will only ask you once and I expect nothing but the truth," he said deathly calm.

Milo gulped from terror and gave a faint nod.

_Good. Let us begin then…_

Merlin lowered his head to look in the other man's eyes.

"First of all… How many of them are there?"

* * *

><p>Outside the city walls, the gathered troops of King Lot's army were waiting for the signal. More than three hundred trained men, both knights and soldiers alike, had been set into various positions. Hidden in the surrounding woods, they were invisible to all but the most observant eyes.<p>

The commander was beginning to worry. It had been hours and still no signal. All around him, the men were getting restless and soon the dawn would be upon them, resulting in the loss of their greatest advantage, darkness. He felt very much impatient having waited there hidden for so long. But it wasn't just his discomfort. Everywhere around him, he could feel his men's growing unease. The sounds of the forest did nothing to help their failing morale. The woods sang a ghostly lullaby, full of strange howls and muffled otherworldly cries that only added to the general sense of nervousness.

And then, an eerie scream breached the whispering sounds of the forest. It lingered, like a human cry coming from a long distance, echoing thunderous and powerful, forming words that seemed too strange to really exist.

Every man stilled, too scared to move but at the same time too proud to draw back, all because of the childish fear of the unknown that had suddenly overcome them.

A few more minutes passed, this time in utter silence. _The calm before the storm_. And then, at long last, the fiery signal appeared on the outer walls. The gates were finally open. The time had come for them to do what they had been waiting for.

Wordlessly, the commander gestured the order to attack. Three hundred men moved like one, coming out of their hideouts and promptly started running towards their collective target, the castle city. There was no place for war horns or battle cries in their plan. No need for Camelot to be alert _just yet_.

They were closing in on the gates when they heard it. A muffled shuffling sound, like a thousand birds beating their wings frantically all around them.

And then, in the darkest hour of the starless night, a huge black mass fell upon them, breathing fire and ashes, spreading death and distraction amongst the ranks of the charging army.

The commander could only stare as his troops were being devoured by the creature's unrelenting fury.

And when he fell down, struck by the powerful flames that were burning everything and everyone around him, he could only think one thought.

That the last thing he ever expected was to be killed by a _dragon_.

* * *

><p>Merlin watched from the battlements as Kilgharrah descended upon the enemy forces. His flames shone brightly into the black night and the screams of the dying men could be heard clearly from where he stood, waiting for the dragon to finish his attack.<p>

When the last man had fallen, Merlin left the battlements and headed to the courtyard. He could hear the alarmed voices of the people gathered there, so he hastily moved to reach his destination.

When he arrived, the warlock struggled not to laugh with the expected sight. A large number of guards and knights of Camelot were trying to surround a _very exacerbated_ Kilgharrah. The dragon, who was literally fuming, kept showing his impressive teeth at the bravest of the knights that dared to move closer to the landed dragon.

As soon as he came into the creature's sight, he heard his name being summoned.

"MERLIN!" the creature's voice loomed in the courtyard. The moment the Court Sorcerer's name had left the dragon's mouth –its _jaws_- all the people present stilled in wonder and turned to see the young warlock walking their way.

Before he had time to answer the beast's call, the Great Dragon lifted his head towards the eastern tower. Following his movement, Merlin looked that way as well.

A soft purple light could be seen around the dark outline of the tower. The dawn was coming. Kilgharrah spoke again, his tone more worried than before.

"Young warlock, you must hurry. The dawn is nearly upon us. I fear your King is soon to be in grave danger. You must go to him, Merlin."

Merlin ignored the rising murmur around him and moved closer to ask the dragon another favor.

"Will you help me, Kilgharrah?"

More startled exclaims came from the people watching the strange discussion between the two creatures of magic. In the back of his mind, Merlin wondered if they were more surprised that a dragon could actually _speak_ rather than the fact that _he_ was currently talking to him like they were old friends.

"Well, as long as you don't make a habit of it, young warlock. It will be my pleasure to be of assistance…"

Merlin grinned in response.

"What are we waiting for then?"

* * *

><p>As soon as he was done interrogating the prisoner, Merlin had left the Great Hall, asking the Queen and the rest of the bystanders to stay there, in the safety of the castle, claiming he would take care of everything. The minute the doors closed behind him, a dozen of voices erupted in the room.<p>

Unseen by the bickering nobles, Andria took the chance to send one of the guards to the Court Physician's chambers to make sure Gaius had been informed of Merlin's rescue and to inquire about the poor girl's health. As soon as he was gone, Andria went to stand by Gwen's side, and finally registered the arguments that were being discussed around her.

"…the lives of our families and friends! I understand he has the King's good favor, but to go from that to ordering us around, it is too much I tell you!"

The man's statement was greeted with another round of arguments.

"We must send the knights to meet them… We should act as soon as possible. My lady, you must see reason!"

Queen Guinevere, who had up until that point been sitting on her throne quietly taking in the dispute, rose to her feet and shot a glare that resulted in promptly silencing everyone in the Hall, demanding their undivided attention. When she was certain she had it, the Queen addressed her subjects with steel determination.

"Lord Merlin has the King's _and mine_ complete support and trust. And why shouldn't he? He has served both the King and Camelot countless of times and never once failed us. And that he had done while he was still, as you all never fail to remind him, a _servant_. I too was a servant once, my lords. Is that a cause for you not to follow my command, in my husband's absence?"

None of them dared speak. The knights had bowed their heads in respect, and even the nobles had the common decency to look genuinely ashamed. But Gwen wasn't done with them, not just yet.

"Let _me_ ask you a question, lords and knights of Camelot. Why should I trust _you_, instead of him? Do not forget that it was one of you, a lord and senior member of your council, behind the attack… One of you that had deceived and ultimately _betrayed_ his fellow noblemen and, most importantly, his King."

And then Gwen went for the kill.

"And wasn't _he_, Gergond of Stiels, the man who first said all the things you all thoughtlessly repeated tonight? That Lord Merlin shouldn't be trusted, that he is a mere peasant, a _treasonous sorcerer_?"

A feeling of pride for her friend's wise words overflowed Andria. Once again, she smiled at the intelligence and courage that characterized the Queen of Camelot, who continued to prove herself King Arthur's rightful match in every single way. With only a few words she had managed to shake those men's beliefs to their core. Sure, Andria knew that both Merlin's and King Arthur's efforts to change the noblemen's opinion on magic had been -slowly- paying off, but Gwen's speech in that particular vulnerable moment had stroke a heavy blow in the heart of their old prejudices.

One of the oldest nobles moved forward, _Lord Arkney_ if memory served her well. He looked very troubled, exchanging worried glances with a few of the others, before he spoke to the Queen.

"Your majesty must forgive us. You speak the truth, as always, and with wisdom far beyond your years. I… I think I speak for all of us when I say that we may have been too stern as regards the Court Sorcerer. The traitor Lord Gergond has been indeed poisoning our minds against the will of our King. But my lady, you should also acknowledge that Lord Merlin should have sought our opinion before he rushed to act, however noble his intentions had been. How do we know he can sufficiently handle the situation? As great a ruler as you may be, my Queen, you do not know of battle strategies and sieges, and as far as we are all concerned neither does Lord Merlin… This is not a matter of sorcery. He is not qualified to cope with this attack. Not without the King… "

They had a point there, Andria thought. Merlin hadn't explained a single thing to them. He had just stormed off, all but ordering the rest of them to stay behind… From their perspective, he wasn't good enough.

A daring thought passed her mind.

Could she perhaps…? Yes… It seemed like a good enough time. Couldn't get any more _dramatic_, that's for sure.

Her father would _definitely _kill her when he'd find out.

She took a deep breath and cleared her throat.

Gwen turned to look at her, perhaps suspecting the young girl's decision. With a gentle encouraging nod, she gave word to the Lady Andria of Longsdale.

"If it is Lord Merlin's knowledge of strategy and his ability to win a battle that you all doubt, my lords, let me assure you of one thing. This man is cunning and resourceful, fearless and completely loyal to his King. We are all lucky to have him by our sides. Me more than anyone."

The surprise written on the faces around her gave Andria the final drop of courage she needed. She was doing the right thing, she was absolutely certain of it. She couldn't help but feel a little thrilled by what she was about to do. In spite of everything that had happened in the past few hours, she found that _this_ would be the most _life-changing_ statement she would ever have to make.

"For the past month I have had the privilege to be under his tutelage and I am proud to call myself, in front of all of you, a _sorceress_ and Lord Merlin's apprentice. And it is for that reason that I can swear to you, on my family's honor that you have _nothing_ to fear, from him or from magic."

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><p>The knights had closed in around their leader. King Arthur sat tall on his horse, his back straight and hand on the hilt of his sword, not showing a hint of fear despite the situation. The other King hadn't dismounted either, instead he moved as close as he could to the Camelot party. The enemy knights had slowly formed a perfect circle around the top of the small hill, were Arthur and his men were trapped. Lot waited for his to settle in position, before he spoke.<p>

"Arthur Pendragon. We meet at last… It is an honour, _Sire_…"

Arthur's eyes flashed in anger at the mocking tone of the other king. When he answered, there was a tone of threat in his voice that none of his men had ever heard before.

"You are trespassing my Kingdom, Lot. You have no right to be here. Heed this warning. Leave these grounds at once, else you risk far more that you would be willing to pay…"

The other King didn't deign to reply. Instead, he turned to his men smirking in satisfaction.

"Kill them. Leave no one alive…" he said, almost casually. "Where is your precious magic now, oh _mighty King_ of Camelot?"

And when the enemy soldiers raised their crossbows to attack, Arthur couldn't help but ask the same question.

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><p><strong>What will happen to the King? Will Merlin be on time to save his friends, or will Lot succeed in his plans? You'll just have to wait and see… <strong>

**I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Please leave a review and tell me what you thought of it… :D**


	9. Chapter 9

**Not sure if I should change the rating for this chapter to T. I guess I'll just warn you that there is a rough description of a battle and hope it will suffice. ( don't be alarmed, though, nothing they haven't done in the show) **

**Soundtrack that inspired me (as in I was listening to these songs while writing, I'm not taking anything from them): **

**Arthur's fight: Seven Devils by Florence and the Machine,**

**Merlin's arrival: Undying Love by Two steps from hell**

**I do not own these songs or Merlin for that matter…**

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><p><strong>Chapter 9: <strong>

The wind was blowing the warlock's hair right in his eyes –a great achievement indeed if one were to judge from their short length- as Merlin turned his head to the east. The sun was up, sunbeams caressing the warlock's skin lightly, taunting Merlin's increasing worry with their calming warmth.

Time was running and every minute Arthur could be in mortal peril.

He turned ahead once again and gazed at the horizon.

"WE WON'T MAKE IT ON TIME, KILGHARRAH!" he shouted to his companion. The wind was so strong up there, he could hardly hear his own voice before it got carried away. He sensed the Great Dragon's response more than he heard it.

'_We're nearly there'_.

* * *

><p>The pain in his shoulder, though excruciating, hardly registered as Arthur got up from the ground, sword unsheathed and ready to strike. <em>At least not dislocated, falling from a horse could do that to a person<em>. He didn't ponder any longer, because soon he was facing two of his enemy's men on his own. He moved smoothly, sword merely an extension of his arm, the strain in his shoulder diminished into a dull throbbing, but not affecting his skill in the slightest. With a combined block and blow, he took care of the first soldier, Excalibur cutting through the other's armor like it was made of butter and not iron. He swiftly ducked to avoid the second man's sword, and then used the momentum he had gained to his advantage, tackling the enemy to the ground and finishing him off with a sure thrust of his blade in the other man's chest.

Feeling satisfied with himself, Arthur quickly scanned the field around him. He had to know how his men fared so far. The sight was a discouraging one. His men were fighting for their lives, some on foot, some still on horseback, but they were obviously outnumbered almost six to one, and that was without counting Lot's _crossbows_. Those forces stayed at the outskirts of the battle, now shooting scarcely and in random. They had already served their role after forcing most of Arthur's men, and the King of Camelot himself, to jump from their horses in order not to be shot.

From what Arthur could tell, two of his men had fallen by crossbow, and another one had been run through by the enemy's swords. He couldn't be sure for the rest of his knights. Somewhere on his right, he caught glimpse of Percival fighting, the knight's forehead colored red with blood, his expression feral as he pressed on. He could only hear the others shout warnings for swords and bolts, growls and desperate battle cries filling his world, becoming his reality.

_Where are you Merlin?_

He kept fighting, violently pushing and shoving his sword, its long blade slicing and cutting through bodies that piled up all around him. He was thrusting Excalibur like mad, like he aimed to kill them all by mere force of will and determination. He was resolute to make a difference, to save his men, to save his land and kingdom. His wife and son.

_For them. For my family._

And then he saw him. King Lot, the leader of the enemy army, the man responsible for the madness around him. He stood on horseback, protected by the thick line of his men, gazing satisfied at the chaos that was the battlefield. Even from a distance, through the blood and pain and death that were drowning him, Arthur could recognize the other King's expression. He was revering a battle fought and a battle _won_. He was congratulating himself for his victory, clearly expecting the battle to turn into a downright massacre any moment now.

The thought enraged the young King almost to the end of his sanity. It clouded his vision with a thick veil of blood red fury. It darkened his features, distorting his noble expression to an unrecognizable one. He would never let his men down. He would never stand for his people and his home to be taken and destroyed. Not again. _Never_ again.

He would take him down, even if it was the last thing he ever did. He would let the enemy army without a leader.

_Kill Lot and then perhaps my knights would stand a chance against the rest of them._

For one final time he thought of Merlin, not the sorcerer that had in the end let him down, but his best friend, the one he had almost lost, but had found once again.

"FOR CAMELOT!" he cried, and dived into the mass of men and steel in front of him.

Arthur was so caught up in the moment that he didn't notice the shadow that passed above the battle field. The clashing of swords surrounding him was the reason he didn't hear the distinctive sound of huge wings beating wildly across the sky.

He only realized the tables had turned when the attacking forces in front of him stopped their advance, the faces of men around him turned deathly pale and then… chaos.

The enemies were running wild, scattering, trying to escape the bloody battlegrounds, seeking refuge to the nearby forest. Arthur hadn't had the time to process why that was happening before five of Lot's men in front of him suddenly flew up in the air, almost knocking him over in the process. And there, in the top of the hill that had become their holding ground stood Camelot's Court Sorcerer, shouting spells and wielding fire, gold shining brightly in his eyes.

And it was only when he reached Merlin, claiming his rightful place by the warlock's side, Excalibur ready in his steady hands, that Arthur dared to smile.

* * *

><p>"Took you long enough!" he heard Arthur shouting from his left.<p>

Merlin raised his hand to force three of the enemy's knights on the ground, and with a word in the Old Tongue vines sprouted from the soil to bind them.

"You have no idea!" he responded. He turned to face his King and nearly got hit by a stray bolt if not for Arthur's last moment cry of distress.

"MERLIN! Do try not to kill yourself, if you don't mind…"

_How can the prat combine irony with worry while actually shouting is beyond me…_

He grinned at his friend, his eyes flashing as he disposed of another attacker. The warlock surveyed his surroundings again. When he first found them, the knights of Camelot and the forces of Lot were fighting a close combat, making it impossible for an aerial attack either by him or the dragon. It would have been too risky, since he barely recognized the red cloaks of Camelot in all that blood that covered the grounds. After Merlin had landed smoothly on the middle of the battle he promptly joined his friends and his King, when in the same time he tried to separate the two forces from one another.

When he was fairly certain that the remaining of Arthur's men where all relatively safe gathered behind him, he motioned for Arthur to stop advancing. Though his friend looked surprised and more than peeved at the thought of being _ordered_ to seize fight when he was technically the one in charge, he relented almost immediately and stopped.

Their rivals paused as well, trying to regroup in some kind of formation, ending up in a few poorly formed lines. Less than half of their force was remaining, most of them knights. The -more insignificant and thus less of a threat- soldiers had all but run into the forest, while a great number of men lay dead or incapacitated on the cold ground. Merlin waited quiet as the newly formed lines parted for the enemy King to pass.

Lot's expression was grim to say the least. He was still on horseback, his eyes wary as he stood there trying to keep the appearance of being in control. His look betrayed that he was carefully measuring Merlin. The warlock was certain the other man was trying to figure out if he was tired or in any way weakened from his earlier display of power. A thin smile appeared on Merlin's face at the thought of unnerving his opponent even more and he quickly whispered the appropriate spell under his breath.

"_**Forbærne yfel!**_"

A circle of fire burst from the earth, surrounding the enemy King, making his horse neigh in terror while its rider struggled with the reigns to control it. The remaining troops behind Lot stood powerless out of terror, unable to either react to the threat against their king or run and flee from the wrath of King Arthur's mighty warlock.

…_That is more like it._

In the distance, Merlin could see Kilgharrah circling around the area, keeping an eye at the turn of the events. The dragon's presence, even if it was a remote one, gave strength to the young warlock and made him oddly happy despite the seriousness of the situation.

Merlin found himself copying one of Morgana's trademarked smirks at the sight of Lot's now panicked state. The plotting King had been reduced into a shacking shell of a man, his eyes wide open, his hands grabbing the horse's mane in a tight grip while he was stuttering a mix of pleas and curses towards the amused and very much in control warlock.

He turned to gaze at his friend smugly. Lifting a hand to point towards Lot, Merlin dropped all his pretense of pride and quietly urged the King of Camelot to step up.

Arthur accepted that without complain. Though he had suffered more than a few thankfully superficial but none the less straining wounds, King Arthur never looked more regal or imposing, commanding respect and attention by simply _standing_.

Merlin always thought of it as Arthur's kind of magic.

"I warned you, Lot…" he stated simply.

The other king seemed to compose himself when confronted with Arthur. He clearly saw that the battle was lost, for his men, though perhaps still superior in numbers, had been all rendered useless, unmoving statues of fear. That didn't stop him from shouting to Arthur in irritation.

"Tell your… Sorcerer to put out these fires of Hell!" he screeched.

"Why should I? You have invaded my Kingdom, attacked me and my knights with every intention to leave none alive. And I am fairly certain that you have been plotting my demise for quite a while… As King of this land it is in my right to pass judgment. It is my right to claim your _lives_…"

Merlin tensed at the coldness in the voice of his friend. He had hoped that Arthur had learned his lesson. A defeated King sitting on the throne of a rival kingdom was something far more benefiting for Camelot than a dead one, in whose name his successors could seek revenge and bloodshed.

Arthur looked as if he hadn't noticed his friend's careful expression, and continued.

"Camelot is _protected_. It has always been and will be, for as long as I -or Merlin in that matter- live."

He stepped closer, and to all around, he looked as if he had grown taller and stronger, as if he now loomed over the other man, even though he was the one on foot and Lot on horseback.

Merlin held his breath as Arthur passed his judgment.

"Leave. Now. Never come back. Not for any reason. If you ever step a foot, nay, a _toe_, in my kingdom again, I will decorate my halls with your _head_."

* * *

><p>"In the name of mugwort's dried leafs….. <em><strong>stop pacing, child!<strong>_"

Andria paused mid-movement, sharply turning to face her uncle. Driory looked as annoyed as she was, while he flipped through the pages of one of her newly acquired magic books.

They were back in her chambers. It had been hours since Merlin had disappeared, apparently lost in the sky ridding a _dragon_ of all creatures, and still no news of either him or King Arthur's party.

The first few hours she had passed with Gwen and the council of noblemen in the Great Halls, receiving news about the _scorched_ army found outside the city walls, and reports from various people recounting their prisoner's dealings in the past couple of months. The man was a known mercenary that went by the name of Milo and was feared in the lower parts of the town, where he had built a very dark reputation. The man himself had been locked in the dungeons, left to be dealt with later.

At some point, Gaius had come, along with her brother, who looked tired and sad but definitely healthier than he did the night before, to inform the Queen and the council of the young girl's story. Everyone had agreed that it had to be Travis that was forced to act as an accomplice for Lord Merlin's kidnap and attempted murder. But at the same time they had all been glad that Queen Guinevere decided to name Travis yet another victim of the conspirators and not an accomplice, giving the poor manservant a little more honor in his death. The young girl, Travis's fiancée, was to stay a few more days in the physician's quarters, to recover from her physical abuse and to start the process of her mental healing. Andria knew that Merlin would make sure to take care of the poor girl, help her start a new life. He would believe he owed Travis that much at least.

A startling moment for the young sorceress had been when Lord Edgar, a noble man a few years older than her father and generally considered very respectable around the court, had come to inquire about her magic lessons. Pleasantly surprised and a little bit numb about the whole magic-reveal thing, Andria started talking and apparently ended up telling what could only be described as a very passionate description of the wonder that was magic and the incredibly clever and ever wise warlock that was Lord Merlin. When she concluded, half an hour later, she was pleased to see many of the other nobles and most of the knights in the room had been captivated by her –rather long but still fascinating- speech.

When it had been time for lunch and still no news from Merlin or Arthur, master Driory had appeared in the Great Hall and had proceeded to urge his niece to retire to her chambers. Reluctantly, Andria accepted and soon she was being fed vegetable broth and guided to her bed for some much needed sleep.

She had woken up in the afternoon and upon learning that there had been no further developments and that the Queen was asking her to stay and rest in her rooms, she had taken into pacing around the room like a caged animal.

Why where they this _late_? Had something happened? Did Merlin not make it on time to save the King from the trap? Even now, hours after Merlin's interrogation of Milo, she shuddered at the thought of the mercenary's victorious expression, when he admitted the King was ridding to a trap. How did Merlin manage not to crush that man where he stood, she would never fathom. But her mentor hadn't even flinched. Instead he calmly continued his interogation, ever so focused and set on his goal to save them all.

And then he was gone and with him, Andria now realized, he had taken her heart.

The sound of footsteps alerted the girl of the arrival of her brother. Henry hadn't even gotten into the room yet when he, still panting from the exercise, shouted in excitement.

"They're here! The–they're at the gates!"

* * *

><p>The road back home had been much longer. After Lot's forces had retreated, Arthur ordered the men to collect their dead while Merlin took care of the wounded. When they had seen that the threat had passed, the residents of Clearwaters had come to offer their assistance to the King.<p>

In total he had lost eight knights. Arthur would always remember their names and honor them amongst all the others who had fallen whilst performing their duty. The villagers had helped building the funeral pyres, honoring the brave men of Camelot as best as they could.

All of the survivors had injuries, of various states. Sir Gwaine had acquired a nasty cut on his leg. Sir Percival had a concussion and had taken an arrow in the arm. Sir Leon was as always the luckiest, managing to make it with only a few scratches and bruises.

Arthur had a few cuts on his arms, as well as a nearly dislocated shoulder from his previous fall of the horse.

Merlin had taken the time to carefully treat every single wound to the best of his abilities. In the end, everyone was in a good enough condition to travel.

Then there was the problem of more than half their horses having been killed in the battle. The village was too small to have a stable full of horses. There were only two of the animals there, and those in no state to ride a long hour journey to Camelot.

They decided that they had to do with what they had and since Kilgharrah had refused profoundly to be used as a horse twice in the same day and by more than one person, they had finally decided they would share the ride.

So it was after a small meal, courtesy of the thankful villagers, that the party returned to the road to Camelot. Sir Gwaine sharing his horse with Sir Elyan, Sir Leon with Sir Lucas, Sir Percival with Sir Bors and of course, King Arthur with Lord Merlin.

What a sight they made riding out in pairs, though they were too exhausted to even think of the ridiculousness of their situation.

It was late afternoon when they finally set their eyes upon the familiar castle. The sight of their home refilled their lost energy and made them urge their tired horses to hurry.

They reached the gates and were greeted with relieved cries of joy and welcome. They hadn't yet gone through the lower part of the town when they heard a loud commotion coming towards them from the direction of the castle, and soon they saw the bigger part of Camelot's court all but running to greet them.

Gwen reached them first, wrapping her husband in a tight hug the moment his feet were on the ground. Merlin dismounted quietly behind them, regarding the sweet moment of the couple's reunion fondly. He didn't see Andria coming towards him until he too was lost in the warm embrace of his apprentice.

The feeling was new and yet oddly familiar and he felt his body relax in the arms of the young girl. They only separated when Arthur quite provocatively cleared his throat, leaving a startled Andria and a blushing Merlin to mumble apologies for their improper behavior.

And then Lord Arkney, who probably stood for the council now that Lord Gergond was gone, came to greet the King. After bowing respectively to Arthur, he turned to Merlin and proceeded to grab the warlocks arm in a firm and very enthusiastic handshake, and thank him for "_Saving us all, yet again, my Lord"_.

Merlin decided he was either dreaming or dying.

There was no other explanation.

* * *

><p><strong>You wouldn't believe how hard it was for me to write the battle! And somehow, though I wanted to show mainly a bamf!Merlin, I ended up with a bamf!Arthur instead. Well, at least I hope they were on character ;)<strong>

**Please remember to review! I'll say it clearly: the more reviews I get the quicker I update, as simple as that!**

**(Now I feel like I'm blackmailing you… I'm a terrible person…)**


	10. Chapter 10

**Hello my lovely readers! A massive 'thank you' to those of you who reviewed/alerted the story. Here is the next chapter, I updated as soon as I could (See I keep my promises! I am good that way…)**

**To MicaRose: thanks for the amazing review and the grammar check! You made both me and my beta very happy ;)**

**Warnings for this one: I don't know how it happened, but this chapter came out a bit darker than the rest. I think I should blame Arthur's foul temper and prejudice against magic for the outcome ( any of you noticed I never take blame for anything? hehehe)**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 10<strong>

Merlin had chosen to retire early that evening. The events of the previous night and day had left him weary and in dire need of rest. After he and Arthur had briefly accounted their story to the worrying Queen and council, the warlock excused himself and headed towards his chambers.

His rooms were cold. The fireplace mustn't have been lit since the day before yesterday. He walked to his bedchamber's door, not bothering to light any candle, glad of the calming effect the night's darkness seemed to have on his nerves. Inside his bedroom, he almost tripped over a small table. Irritated to find his furniture out of place, Merlin muttered an incantation that made a sphere of light appear on the palm of his hand. Raising his hand, the small sphere flew in the air, shedding light and revealing all that had taken place in the room in the warlock's absence.

Merlin's mind went blank as he stared at one particular spot on the floor, where a dark stain could be clearly seen. From the way it was smeared, and the fact that he now recognized the smell of soap lingering in the room, the warlock correctly assumed that someone had tried to clean it, though not successfully.

He exited the smaller room, returning to his cold and dark workroom. Right. Cold because there was no fire. No fire because his manservant hadn't lit the fireplace. Because he had been _killed_.

Merlin closed his eyes, feeling on the verge of tears. The battle and the struggle to get back as quickly as possible had prevented the warlock from thinking more of what Andria had told him. He was so set upon his task to protect Arthur and Camelot, to save the Once and Future King and the future of Albion, that he hadn't had the chance or the time to reflect upon the tragic events that had occurred while he was held captive.

He could only feel deep sorrow and pity for the boy that had been in his service, the young man he didn't want to remember as a servant, but as Travis, an innocent soul that had been caught in a game that wasn't his to play and had ultimately claimed his life. And all this only because he wanted to keep the person he loved safe. An impossible choice, one that Merlin could understand very well and could never hold him accountable for.

He sighed deeply and decided to sleep in one of his armchairs for the night.

* * *

><p>Andria woke up early. She decided to skip breakfast, not really feeling the appetite for it. Since Lord Merlin's return the previous evening, something inside the young girl had fallen back in place. He was safe, so now the world could go back to normal once more. But though she had expected to find her peace of mind, she clearly had not. There was this strange feeling of unease troubling the young sorceress. She had struggled all night, finding it very difficult to fall asleep with this disturbing growing sense of wrong. This heavy burden that was stuck in her chest and minute by minute made it more difficult for her to breathe.<p>

The morning had passed and Andria hadn't left her rooms, feeling incapable of either pretending nothing was wrong with her or offering an explanation for her state of unrest. It was about lunch time, after she had refused another meal and had received an alarmed look from her maid, that Merlin came to see her.

"You are unwell…" he stated.

_Well of course I am, doesn't take a genius to figure that out…_

"It is none of your concern, my Lord," she replied coldly. The irritation in her voice startled the warlock. Andria felt guilty for dismissing her mentor -_he is not only my mentor though, is he? Stop it, Andria!-_ but thankfully Merlin regained his composure swiftly, a knowing look dawning in his eyes.

"Andria…"

She turned her head away from him, not wanting him to see the emotions written on her face. Shame, anger, fear, confusion. Guilt. She didn't know what to feel first, what to think and say.

"Andria," he repeated more firmly, "look at me. Tell me what is wrong."

She sighed. No escaping from him then. She took one deep breath and turned to meet him, consciously avoiding his eyes, keeping her head down. She felt as if her façade of normalcy would crumble under Merlin's piercing gaze.

A moment passed and then she looked at him.

"Oh, _Andria_," he whispered in compassion.

That was all it took for her to break. Her shoulders dropped and she began to sob, tears running freely down her face. Merlin didn't hesitate for a second before he wrapped her in a tight embrace. She held on him like her life depended on it, her head resting on his shoulder, damping his tunic with her tears, refusing to let go even in the slightest. The warlock's hands caressed her head and her back, soothing and comforting. He didn't speak until her sobbing had subsided and even then he still wouldn't let her go. His voice sounded low and hoarse. Though she couldn't see, Andria could imagine the fierce and passionate look on his face while he spoke.

"It's alright… It's alright. I know. I understand, Andria. I know how it is to feel lost, overwhelmed. It is only normal. In one day you experienced things most people do not in a lifetime… Andria, you found a man dead. You _killed_ a man. You saved me. Shhhh… I know, I understand…"

Tears were once again flowing and Andria finally felt the last of the barriers she had put up to collapse. Every repressed thought and emotion surfaced and began to overwhelm her. She tried to explain that to Merlin as best as she could.

"I thought you had been killed, that I wouldn't be on time, like –like _Travis_, and then he was there above you, and I –I just reacted, and he had a _knife _and I didn't know what to do, but I could never let him _hurt_ you, and the girl was crying, and I wanted to cry too and I swore I would never be an evil _witch _but… and then _you_ left and wouldn't come back and _**I was so scared**_…"

She stopped abruptly when she felt his hand at the side of her face. Looking up, she found Merlin's eyes. The light caress of his fingers wiped away the lingering tears from the corners of her eyes, but she could only think of his deep blue eyes and how looking in them felt like walking out of time and space, like eternity.

"You did nothing wrong, Andria. I want you to be certain of it. You simply used a skill you possess to defend a person in need. Nothing more. And I am here now, aren't I? We are all safe, thanks to you. You were so _brave_. And what you did with the council, _yes I heard of it_, it was beyond brave. It was noble and selfless. You shared your lifelong secret to keep _my_ name from being tarnished. I could never thank you enough."

She shook her head. "I owe too much to you, my Lord… Compared to that, it was nothing."

He smiled at her and then finally stepped away, letting his hands rest on her shoulders. Andria secretly mourned the loss of his warm touch on her cheek. The intimacy of the moment had felt much deeper than that of a teacher and a student.

She couldn't think like that. It wasn't proper. Whatever she might be feeling, Merlin thought of her as his apprentice, no more. Gathering her wits, Andria took a step back. Her mind took her towards another direction.

"Will I get a trial? I mean for killing Lord Gergond… He might have been a traitor, but he was still a noble, a Lord. And I –with magic no less… Will the King put me on trial?" she felt stupid to ask, but nonetheless it had been bothering her.

"Andria that is…" he paused, looking at her incredulous for a moment and then his face broke into a grin. "That is the most _absurd_ idea I have ever heard you say! Trial… What on earth…" he gave her an amused glare. "Do you believe a knight deserves to be judged if he kills another knight in battle while defending his land? Do you know how many people Arthur has killed defending the kingdom? Do you know how many _I_ have killed? And I assure you, most of them I fought with magic. No one will blame you for disposing a traitor and a threat."

She looked at him sheepishly. She knew it was silly, but all these things were a novelty to her. And with everyone being aware of her magic, she had been feeling a little afraid of an arrest, on top of everything else.

Merlin seemed to follow her trail of thoughts completely. His expression sobered significantly. He looked at her like he was contemplating if he should speak these next words.

"You know, I once killed a noble, who was a traitor to the King. And not just any noble, mind you. Arthur's uncle, _Lord Agravaine_." Andria's eyes widened in shock. "He had been in league with Morgana" he continued, "and in the end he left me no other choice. When Arthur learned what I had done to his uncle, he _thanked_ me. And I am not even noble-born. So if I were you, I would sleep at ease, knowing I had done nothing wrong and that people are even thankful for my actions."

The idea made the young woman smile. People would thank her for something she had done with her _magic_. She still couldn't grasp it.

"And you should toughen up a little bit, my young apprentice," she heard her mentor joke, "Sooner than later you'll be by my side fighting evil witches and armies of dead in the name of Camelot! I won't have you crying for killing a ghoul or a skeleton you know…"

* * *

><p>After leaving Guinevere struggling to feed a very hungry and grumpy Prince Aidan, Arthur made his way to the Small Council room, where he had summoned the Lords and Knights of Camelot. There he sat, listening to their reports of everything that had occurred while he was gone. Though Merlin had told him that there had been an attempted siege and that he had dealt with it accordingly, the King was still shocked to hear of the massacre outside Camelot's walls. Once again, Arthur realized that the power resting on his best friend's hands was in fact far greater than that of any other man in the whole of Albion. And for the hundredth time, he thanked the Gods of Old that it was Merlin and nobody else that had been blessed with this raw power and responsibility.<p>

Lord Arkney had given him a very thorough description of how his friend had acted at Camelot's time of need. The old man that Arthur always thought too reserved to openly express an opinion about the Court Sorcerer –whereas other nobles had called him servant more than once, especially the first few months of his new position-, had been singing Merlin's praise. He hadn't hesitated in explaining the council's initial doubts and the Queen's little 'rant', as Arthur liked to call it. The biggest surprise to the King was Lady Andria's revelation. He understood the weight it had carried, how a noble with magic fighting for the good of the Kingdom had eased any doubts they might still have in mind about the nature of magic. Thus, he was glad to listen to his Lords and Knights finally speak proudly of their Court Sorcerer's actions of valor.

_Now he's_ their _Court Sorcerer, isn't he?_

"…and not only to fight magic with magic. Now we understand the wisdom in your actions, my Liege. To have a sorcerer stand by Camelot, in war but in peace as well, is indeed a blessing to the Kingdom. The use of magic is one that shouldn't be limited only to fighting other sorcerers. Magic has proven that it can be used in war against enemy armies and in peaceful times, to heal and to help the land prosper. By your leave, I would like to work on a list of matters where magic could helpful, with the valuable assistance of Lord Merlin of course."

Arthur looked at the man that had just finished speaking, Lord Edgar. After a moment, he realized that the Lord was waiting for an answer.

"Yes of course. You and Merlin work on that."

The man smiled satisfied and was quick to thank him.

Arthur was sure Merlin wouldn't mind working with Lord Edgar. In fact, the King had been considering his Court Sorcerer's tasks for a while now. Perhaps it was time for him to make a decision.

"I believe we are finished. Council dismissed."

* * *

><p>A serving boy informed him that Merlin was in the library with Sir Geoffrey of Monmouth and that the Queen was in the gardens with the little Prince. Satisfied he wouldn't be disturbed, because no one else would ever <em>dare<em> to disturb Arthur when he specifically asked for privacy, he walked to his chair by the window. The sun was burning brightly outside, a good day for training or hunting. Still Arthur's thoughts were straining, leaving the beautiful sight of the castle before him and traveling to another day, months ago, a day much like this one and yet completely different.

The day he almost made the biggest mistake of his entire life.

_He regards the wine. Wonders who brought it in._

_He does not drink._

_He hasn't allowed anyone to come in since the day before yesterday. _

_So it must have been _him _who had brought it._

_He doesn't want to see any of the others. Traitors, the lots of them. Gaius, Gwaine, even Guinevere. They all want the same thing._

'_Please listen to reason, Arthur.'_

'_It's Merlin we are talking about.'_

_They don't know what they're saying. Perhaps they have been enchanted. But no, he hasn't allowed anyone to go down there. It can't be that then. They are consciously choosing _him_ instead of their King._

_He hasn't allowed anyone to see the prisoner. He knows from the guards that the sorcerer hasn't stopped calling for them. His friends._

_His King. _

_For anyone, really._

_But the King's orders are perfectly clear. No one is allowed to go near the sorcerer. No visits, no food, no water. _

_No need for a condemned man to eat or drink. He is to burn anyway._

_Outside, he can hear the members of the castle staff working, placing log after log on a neat pile, shoving bushels of dry branches through the gaps the wood left. He had given the order for the pyre to be built when he woke up earlier that morning. No more dallying. No need to prolong the inevitable._

_Merlin is a traitor. He is a sorcerer._

_Traitors are evil. Sorcerers as well._

_He has said it so many times these past two days that the words are starting to lose their meaning. All that remains is the feeling. The too familiar pain of finding out you had been lied to, deceived by those who you cherished the most. _

_There is but one option left for him, one way to take. There always was only one option, really. The law states that magic is punishable by death. The same penalty stands for treason._

_What do you do with a traitorous sorcerer then? Kill him twice?_

_Tomorrow morning, just upon the dawn, Merlin will meet the end he deserves. _

_And justice will be served._

_He looks out of the window. The weather is warm and sunny, rather unusual for this time of year. Arthur is sure even Mother Nature is taunting him. Inside he feels cold. Dead._

_Like Merlin will be in a few hours._

_By this time tomorrow Merlin will be forever gone. All that will remain will be a small pile of ashes scattered on the courtyard for the wind to blow away. He cannot afford to think of it any longer. If he does, his resolve might crumble and that is something simply unacceptable. He is the King. He must see that the Laws of the Land are followed. He must protect Camelot from traitors. Like Agravaine. Or traitors with magic, like Morgana. _

_He cannot think of his manservant, the boy that had challenged him in the market all those years ago, who had drank poison for him. Who had gotten into battles behind him with nothing more than a rusty sword and a deranged smile that made him look like the village idiot. _

_That boy doesn't exist. It was a lie. Now he sees that. _

_He hears a loud commotion from the courtyard. Looking down he can see them. His knights. They are dragging a struggling Gwaine back inside the castle. The man is obviously intoxicated if he thought attacking the servants working on building the pyre would prevent the execution of his traitorous friend. _

_The crowd begins to disperse once the knights are out of sight. There are unusually few people around the pyre. It is common for the citizens of Camelot to rally and watch the sorcerers' executions. Occasionally to even celebrate them. _

_But not this one. Not Merlin, the King's manservant._

_Merlin, the man that had gone to the perilous lands with him, and to the Isle of the Blessed, and the one that had even given him the sword he carried. The sword of the Rightful Ruler of the land._

_Are they all lies then? Has all his life for the past seven years been reduced to nothing more than a bunch of _lies_? _

_This isn't going to work, is it?_

_He can't leave it like this. He has to know. _

_This is his last chance to learn the truth._

_It doesn't take long to reach the dungeons. The guards posted outside hand him a lit torch. He takes it and walks down the stairs to the lowest level of the castle. No one has been down there for days, - nobody had been _imprisoned_ there for _years_- so all the lights are out._

_When he reaches the level, he can't hear a thing. It's dark, pitch black, and cold. A perfect contrast to the outside world. He expects to hear shouts and curses, perhaps even pleas. Not magic though. He doesn't know why, but he just feels that Merlin will not use his magic to escape or fight. At least he has _that_ much decency, even for a liar and a traitor. _

_When he's at the cell, he cannot see him. The light doesn't illuminate the whole of the dark room, so he unlocks the door and enters._

_He finds him in the far corner. A pale, frail little shell of a man, sitting with his face pressed on his knees and his arms folded protectively around him. He hasn't realized he has a visitor yet. Or perhaps he thinks it is an illusion caused by hunger or thirst. _

_Arthur cannot afford to begin to doubt his decision. It had been the right thing to do. The lawful thing._

_He shoves him with the tip of his boot. He doesn't respond. _

_He kicks him. And again, harder this time._

_Merlin jolts, blinks repeatedly, finally alert, tries to get up. He lacks the energy. _

_He is in a sorry state, but the one thing that shocks Arthur is the man's eyes. They are eyes that don't belong to a living man. They are the eyes of the dead._

"_Arthur…" he croaks. _

"_Don't," he stops the hoarse plea before it truly forms in Merlin's dry mouth._

"_I just came here for one reason and one reason only."_

_The sorcerer –it is easier now to think of him as a sorcerer because he doesn't really look like Merlin any more- stills and waits for him to continue. _

"_I want the truth. All of it. Everything that has happened since you came here. And don't you _dare_ lie to me. I want you to swear on your mother's life you will tell me nothing but the truth. So help me God Merlin, if you lie, I will kill her myself."_

_He knows it's not the truth of course. That he is being too cruel. Probably Merlin does so as well. But still he needs to make a statement, to be understood._

"_I suggest you confess everything now, because tomorrow morning… you will _die_, Merlin."_

_He thinks he will never forget the expression on the warlock's face at this last statement._

He never did.

* * *

><p><strong>Arthur should really learn to control his temper. I mean seriously, I got depressed writing this last part because I kept thinking that if Arthur banished Gwen for a kiss with Lancelot, what will he do to Merlin if he found out the wrong way? *trembles at the thought*<strong>

**And Andria had a small nervous breakdown but I find it only logical after what she's been through…**

**Damn it! Now I'm the one in need of comforting… :( **

**Please REVIEW? I know not much happens in this chapter but I'd really love to know if you liked it or not nonetheless! And it will help me find the motivation I need to write the next few chapters as well. **


	11. Chapter 11

**Alright here we are! Sorry for the long wait, but this chapter proved to be quite difficult for me to write. I hope you'll all be pleased with the outcome :)**

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><p><strong>Chapter 11<strong>

When Gwen finally got back to the royal chambers, she was confronted with a bemusing sight. The King was sitting in one of the armchairs, his head resting on its wooden back, his eyes closed in concentration while his fingers tapped rhythmically on the table in front of him. He didn't seem to notice her arrival. One would say he looked like he wasn't even there, that his mind was traveling far, far away. In fact, judging by the untouched lunch and full goblet of wine, Gwen was almost certain her husband had spent his entire afternoon in that state of reflection.

She approached carefully, not to startle him. Slowly, he opened his eyes, acknowledging her at last. His expression remained reserved, if not a bit troubled.

"Guinevere," he greeted her, though his attention was still clearly off.

"What is it, my love?" She asked him, beginning to feel concerned. Had something happened while she was out? Surely someone would have told her if that had been the case…

He didn't respond. His eyes betrayed that he was no longer there in his chambers with her. He was somewhere else. Somewhere _unpleasant_, if the wrinkles forming on his forehead were anything to go by.

She reached out to caress the side of his face with her hand. He turned to her, surprised, as if he had forgotten she was there to begin with.

"Is something wrong, Arthur? You look troubled…"

The genuine concern in her voice seemed to be enough to shake Arthur out of his reverie. He shook his head slightly, taking her warm hand into his own and bringing it to his lips for a gentle kiss.

"No. Nothing is wrong, love. I was just thinking…" he said in a calm, quiet voice.

Gwen was still a little perplexed though… She moved to sit in the chair beside him.

"Care to tell me what you were thinking about?" she nudged him.

He took a moment to reply. When he did, he kept his eyes deliberately down.

"Many things, really…" he paused, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. Guinevere waited patiently for him to continue, but when she understood he –perhaps unconsciously- hadn't the intention to do so, she urged him even more.

"Like what? What things, Arthur?"

She could see that he was drifting again, and the feeling of worry resurfaced in the heart of the Queen.

* * *

><p>"<em>I suggest you confess everything now, because tomorrow morning… you will <em>die_, Merlin."_

"_Yes…" Merlin replies after a minute of still silence. The sorcerer's face initially went even paler_ _when Arthur announced his impending execution, going from pain to betrayal, loss and finally acceptance. Now, though, he is calm while he speaks, but it is clear to Arthur that the man is struggling to keep his hoarse voice from cracking completely._

"_Of course I'll… __**Arthur**__…" he whispers pleadingly. "There's nothing I want more than to have the chance to explain everything to you, __**nothing**__… I don't care what you've decided to do with me, nor will I try to stop you from e…executing your plans, but I implore you, for the sake of what we used to be, let me tell my story uninterrupted. Just- just let me reach the endin-"_

_While Merlin speaks, Arthur feels the familiar rise of anger inside him. How dare he, a sorcerer, play the part of the victim? He isn't the one who has been lied to for years, manipulated by the one person he trusted the most. _

_The traitor. The liar. _

_He doesn't wait for him to finish._

_He slaps him hard, managing to split the warlock's dry lips open and cover the skeletal man's face with blood._

_Merlin falls to his side, coughing and spitting the blood filling his mouth, his eyes wide in surprise and fear._

_Good._

"_Stop playing with me, you __**filthy sorcerer**_!_ You are not the victim here, __**Me**__rlin. You are not innocent. I have already given the order of your execution and I damn well plan to go through with it! There is no point whatsoever in trying to make me feel sorry for you or change my mind about you! I only want to know how many times in all the years I've known you,__** I have been made a fool of!"**_

_His throat is burning and he knows that he is seething, probably looks beyond mad as well - certainly feels like it- but he can no longer help the bile and anger that rise to consume him._

_Merlin manages to lift his body to a seated position, and when he looks at his King, who is still looming menacingly above him, the only thing written on his face is regret. _

_His reply, when it comes, is so full of honesty, so simple and unguarded -so typical of __**Merlin**_-_, that it leaves Arthur stunned and speechless._

"_Never, Sire. Never to me."_

* * *

><p><em>Arthur sits silently, not thinking or acting, just listening to the stories –the lies- the imprisoned man is recounting. <em>

_He had stopped him twice in the beginning, once when Merlin claimed that he had been born with magic –'Impossible!', 'Quite possible, Arthur, ask my mother if you wish'- and the second when he told him of the first time he had met the Great Dragon. He had taken out a dagger then, mad with anger and betrayal –'YOU! It was you who released him, wasn't it? I should rip your eyes out of their sockets and leave you here to BLEED TO DEATH!' – Merlin waited, broken and weak with tears in his eyes, for the King to calm down a bit and then asked him if he wanted to hear the story or not -'Because this won't be the only time you'll want to kill me, Arthur. You asked for the truth. I asked not to be interrupted. Be patient enough to wait until tomorrow, Sire …'-. So Arthur complied and tried harder to control his reactions from then on. _

_Only now, as the stories slowly unfold one by one, does Arthur start feeling more and more confused, lost in the inevitable conclusions he comes to after each tale. Merlin's voice, misused from days of pointless shouting and forced dehydration is almost unrecognizably hoarse by now. But still he continues, despite looking haunted and pained. It is as if his whole being is desperately seeking redemption through his recounting. Or perhaps closure._

_Arthur keeps his word and doesn't interrupt any more. Instead he listens to endless stories of his past from a completely novel point of view. In this retelling, Merlin is the one who saves the day, who makes sacrifices, he is the one to whom Arthur and the rest of Camelot owe their lives. He is the hero. _

_The most alarming thought that comes to the King is how it all sounds very plausible. Now that he tries to remember, Merlin's point of view seems to fill in the gaps he hadn't even realized were there, to answer all the questions left unanswered._

_Could he really believe him though? He __**is**__ a sorcerer. A traitor. He has been lying for so many years, and now, if all he says is the truth, Arthur finds himself at a true loss of what to think. And not only about Merlin, but about __**himself**__ as well. _

_Until that morning, Arthur thought he had been right in claiming all of his accomplishments as his own, he had believed himself worthy of the crown upon his head, but now he's come to realize he hadn't done __**a thing**__ unaided. If Merlin speaks the truth then… then he isn't worthy. He has never been. _

_Should he trust the words of a liar? _

_But Merlin swore to tell the truth. Practically on his mother's life. And he has already resigned to his fate, he knows he is a dead man, there is no point in him spending his final hours spreading more lies._

_But one look at his broken figure is enough for the king to be certain he isn't being lied to any more._

_No. Arthur finally comes to the impossible but nonetheless certain conclusion that he actually __**believes**__ him._

_So Merlin continues his story, his face betraying his frail emotions clearly, his posture portraying exhaustion and surrender. His distorted voice is emotionless and detached, like he is talking to himself and not to another person. _

_And Arthur listens in earnest._

_When the warlock finally reaches the end of his confession, which is his decision to break out that prisoner not three full days ago, he doesn't look towards Arthur to see the King's final judgment. Instead, he prefers to keep his eyes closed and fall back on the cold cell's floor, his body instinctively returning to the fetal position._

_He looks truly gone. Resigned and broken._

_Arthur feels like a veil has been lifted, and his world has changed truly and forever. He feels as if he really sees everything for the first time._

_He stares at the man lying at his feet, waiting for his end to come._

_And all he can think of is that he has been the biggest fool in the five kingdoms. _

_And he has no idea how to fix it._

* * *

><p>Gwen was contemplating whether or not to call for Gaius, when she heard Arthur answer her at last, his voice nearly a whisper but still clear enough for her to make out what he was saying.<p>

"I was just thinking of loyalty, courage, selflessness. Of bravery and compassion, of sacrifice…"

She smiled fondly at her musing husband_. _

_Oh, Arthur, you'll never change…_

"You were thinking of Merlin then, my love. _Weren't you_?"

His eyes lit up and he finally turned his attention fully towards her. He looked at her very determinately, mouth half open as if he was about to answer her question but no sound came out. Then he promptly got up and started pacing back and forth, shooting side glances towards his wife that where surprisingly cheerful given his previous pensive state. After a minute of this rather peculiar -even for him- display of conduct, he stopped and looked directly at her. She didn't fail to notice a mischievous grin forming on his face.

"Yes as a matter of fact I _was_ thinking about Merlin. And I think I just had an epiphany, Guinevere," he said, sounding very excited.

His eyes shone even brighter when he continued.

"And I think I might need your help on a certain thing or two…"

* * *

><p>Henry was busy bashing a very persistent batch of burdock root that just refused to comply and be smashed into powder when his sister came rushing in the Court physician's chambers.<p>

"Henry!" she exclaimed, as if surprised to see him there. "Where is Gaius? Uncle said he would be here…"

"Hi there Andria! Gaius has gone off with Rosie to Lady Moirra's house, Merlin has arranged for her to be the lady's new maid and Gaius insisted on escorting her there. I'm fine by the way, thank you for asking. How are _you_, dear sister?" He could see the apologetic smile on her face, but it still irritated him that for the past three days since Lord Merlin had returned along with the King's party she hadn't come to visit him, not _once._

At that point the doors opened up again to reveal a small, round, grumpy old man dressed in a brown robe that was obviously too long for his stature.

"Ah… there you are, children. So, what do you think of it? Should I wear this one or should I stick with the red one? More of a Pendragon feel to that other one…" he started babbling, while checking the garment's fit from every point of view he could muster.

The young noble shook his head, feeling at a complete loss in regards to his uncle's strange behavior. Well, stranger than usual that is…

"What is he talking about…" he didn't manage to finish the sentence when Andria apparently joined uncle Driory in the whole not-making-any-sense act.

"No, no uncle. Blue. I talked to the Queen this morning. It's going to be _blue_. So perhaps the other one? The short one?"

At that Driory let out a triumphant cry and then exited as quickly as he had entered, muttering about possibilities of scorched tunics.

_What on earth is happening here? _

Andria, thankfully, seemed to understand his bewilderment. She looked as if she was buzzing with excitement when she spoke.

"I talked to the Queen earlier. The king is making an _announcement_ tomorrow. It's going to be big. And it's a surprise for Merlin, so no, you can't tell anyone. I came here to let Gaius know. Oh Henry!" she exclaimed and then threw herself into her brother's arms.

Henry felt even more perplexed than before her 'explanation'. An announcement from the King, Uncle's poor attempts at dressing up, Andria being overjoyed, failing to call her mentor's title, it all rather alarmed him.

Wait, wait, wait…

No, that couldn't be it, could it?

He removed her carefully from his arms.

"Andria… You're not… You aren't by any chance getting _engaged_ to Lord Merlin, are you?"

Andria went red, her smile dropped instantly and she started mumbling uncontrollably.

"Wha… No! What gave you that idea? Has he said anything? What do you know? _Tell me_!"

It was Henry's turn to look sheepish. "I only tried to guess what you are all excited about, that's all…"

Andria's color slowly returned to normal, though Henry thought he detected disappointment of all things written on her features.

"No, nothing like that. It has to do with magic." Her eyes gleamed with happiness when she added. "And fighting. It has to do with magic and fighting."

Henry waited for a moment. When she didn't elaborate, he asked.

"Hasn't the King already repealed the ban? What is he to do now?"

She frowned a bit and then tried to explain to him, using her you-have-the-intellectual-capacity-of-a-five-year-old voice.

"Well, it's not something as radical as the repeal of a twenty five year old law or anything, but it still _is_ important. He is building a new _force_."

* * *

><p>Three days after his <em>hero's<em> return, Merlin found himself being called to the King's Quarters.

That in itself wasn't something out of the ordinary.

Merlin though had the eerie feeling that something was very much amiss. And he had a few suspicions too. He had come across Andria earlier that day, just after breakfast, and she had all but ignored him, muttering a brief hello and then vanishing around a corner. And when he passed by the knights' training, both Gwaine and Elyan, who weren't sparing at the moment but discussing something in hushed voices, had started when they saw him, at once ceasing their conversation and returning to their practice.

They were hiding something from him.

He hadn't yet seen Arthur or Gwen, and for some reason that made him feel more unease. When the summons had finally come in the afternoon, Merlin began feeling dread.

_What has the prat done this time?_

When he entered Arthur's chambers he expected to find the King in distress and Camelot in general in grave peril. What he did find waiting for him though, was the Royal Couple of Camelot sitting side by side in front of the table with alarmingly gleeful smiles plastered upon both their faces.

_What in the name of…_

"Arthur…? Is everything… alright, Sire?" he asked gingerly.

The King shrugged in response and then smiled pleasantly.

"Everything is fine, Merlin."

The warlock wasn't fooled even for a second. Though he had gathered from his friends' attitude that the city of Camelot was safe, he was starting to worry for a completely different matter. The look on Arthur's face was very close to the one he used to have when he ordered for Merlin to be put in the stocks, back in the _good old days_. Merlin liked to call it the _Ultimate Prat Face_.

Or simply UPF.

He decided on another, more forceful approach. "Is there something you two wish to tell me or should I just try to guess? What's going on?" he demanded, trying to sound fairly irritated just to make a point. It wasn't very difficult to manage.

Arthur seemed to pick up on his friend's growing frustration. He let his expression soften a little, in what he gathered as a reassuring manner.

"Relax, Merlin…" he walked forward, coming to stand in front of the warlock. "Nothing is wrong. On the contrary. We have a _surprise_ for you."

He extended his arm towards his startled friend. Merlin saw the King was holding a piece of parchment in his hand. The warlock took it reluctantly. Judging by the size and the number of smudges, Merlin correctly identified the item as a draft of some sort of speech.

He didn't know if he was more baffled by the fact that Arthur had decided to give a speech when there was no imminent event of any sorts that needed him to deliver one, or that he had apparently tried to write it _all by himself_.

At that moment, Gwen chose to clear her throat.

_Well, __**almost**__ all by himself_.

"You are supposed to read it, Merlin," Arthur commented impatiently.

Right.

He began reading the almost illegible text. Slowly, Merlin's face turned from a perplexed frown to a small grin that grew wider as he progressed. When he had finished, he looked at Arthur with nothing but pride written across his face.

He held the piece of parchment tight in his hands.

"You really want to form a new order then? A new code?" he asked his King, already knowing the answer.

"No need for a new code. The Knights Code will suffice, perhaps with some minor alterations. I am founding a new –and very much needed- branch in Camelot's military defenses. I believe the time has come when the people will gratefully accept an order of magic users sworn to protect and defend them from harm."

Merlin actually beamed at him. He had known Arthur would eventually do it, of course he did, but it had come so suddenly that it had caught him off guard. He was pleasantly surprised.

"I must say as far as surprises go, it is most welcome, Sire," he replied lightheartedly. He regretted it though the minute he saw Arthur's expression.

The King had never looked so smug in his life. And that should mean something. It was _Arthur_ after all.

"Well, it's hardly unexpected if you think of it more carefully. You could not be expected to face all our enemies by yourself, and you have already started training one apprentice. It was only a matter of time as to when more would follow. You are the 'legendary' Emrys, as you never fail to remind me after all…" he said, his tone suggesting he was merely playing with his 'victim' before going for the kill.

"This… is the surprise," he said and promptly moved to the side, while Gwen turned behind her to pick something from the table. When she turned again, Merlin's face paled.

"Wh..What is this?" he dared to ask in a small voice. His eyes had gone round like saucers and were both glued to the item in the Queens hands.

"This is the official outfit of the leader of my new order. That would be _you_ of course. I think I'll call it '_**The Silver Guard'**_. Has a nice ring to it, don't you think?" said Arthur pleasantly.

Merlin though didn't respond. He probably couldn't even if he wanted to. Instead, his mind could only process one thing.

The long light blue _robe_ that Gwen was now swinging happily in her arms, which was lavishly decorated with a variety of multi-sized silver _crescents_ and _stars._

_This can't be happening._

"You haven't seen the best yet," Arthur startled him. It seemed that while the poor warlock was trying to come to terms with his new official, well, _dress_ apparently, the King had walked pass him and was now standing behind him.

Merlin felt the dread rise in him as he turned around.

In the King's hands lay the _matching _head gear of the ensemble. Arthur was practically leering.

"It comes with a pointy hat!"

_That utter __**prat**_.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: There you have it then! This is it. Only **_**one**_** chapter left, an epilogue that will, amongst other things, explore Merlin and Andria's relationship. I think you'll like it, especially those of you who have read 'a journey destined'… (gave you a little hint there :P)**

**I enjoyed ending the story on a lighter note. Hope it met with your expectations.**

**Please review, it means a lot to me :D**


	12. Chapter 12

**Warning: shameless fluff, Merlin/OC **

**You should know, this is taking place during the last chapters of 'A journey destined' and a few months after. So … spoilers for that I guess?**

* * *

><p><strong>Epilogue<strong>

_A little over seven years later…_

She closed the doors of the Court Sorcerer's chambers carefully, trying to not make a sound. Slowly, she advanced into the large room while incanting a variety of spells to tidy the place up. All around her objects moved purposely, little bottles that sorted themselves onto selves, furniture getting arranged in their proper positions, books finding their way up on the far wall library. It was still early in the morning and none of the maids had come up to either clean or bring Merlin his breakfast. She studied the small table besides the fireplace. Lifting up her hand, Andria muttered a summoning spell that promptly filled its surface with various fruits, bread and cheese and a mug of hot herbal tea. She doubted Merlin would be in any condition to move, let alone leave his chambers for a while, even more without having some proper food yet.

She enjoyed forcing food on him whenever circumstances would allow it. He looked so much healthier nowadays and she liked boasting it was partially her accomplishment.

She went on with the rest of the chores silently as not to disturb the sleeping man in the smaller room. It had taken a combined effort of six members of the Guard, along with her magical prowess, to return Merlin's bedchamber to its former condition after the previous day's events.

The battle with Morgana had been brief but nearly catastrophic. Thankfully, she was now certain that Merlin would make a full recovery. But to achieve that he needed to rest. In relative _peace_ and _silence_.

_Why does he always have to risk losing his life?_

_Is Merlin-in-the-brink-of-death some kind of… necessity for Camelot's defenses? _

"Last time I checked, _this_ certainly wasn't in your job description…"

Andria turned abruptly to find Camelot's Court Sorcerer -and the man of her dreams -_Stop it Andria!-_ resting tentatively on the door frame. He looked very tired, black circles clearly visible under his hooded eyes, skin marred by a variety of cuts and bruises. The white sleeping tunic he was wearing was hanging loosely from his body.

_Of course he's lost weight. He gets abducted for four days and he bloody loses weight. Just typical._

"Someone had to clean up this mess, Merlin. I didn't want the maids to come up and risk waking you up. Guess I should have known better," she said scoffing. "You should go back to bed, you look like you can barely stand as it is…" She walked towards the warlock to lend him a hand.

Merlin smiled tentatively when she reached him. She put a hand around his back and let him use her shoulder for support. _Definitely lost weight._ She began to move inside the bedchamber only to be stopped again.

"No, I much prefer to sit in there for a while. Perhaps even eat something. I seem to be starving…" he trailed off, letting a small laugh at the end.

Andria stared at the man she had almost lost. Not that he was hers to begin with but still. Listening to Merlin's carefree laugh, even the shorter, fainter version of it, was enough to make the sorceress weak on her knees. She had to physically shake her head in order to snap out of it and help him to sit.

They hadn't made it to the middle of the work room yet when she felt him stop. She turned to look, feeling alarmed and ready to ask if there was something bothering him but no words came out of her mouth. Instead she stood there lost in his eyes, eyes that were studying her but betraying no emotion. She held her breath, feeling as she should be the one in need of support and not he. A minute more of this and she might have passed out. But that hadn't been the case.

"You let your hair down. It looks beautiful…" he whispered, his eyes never leaving hers, his hand coming to rest upon the small of her neck. Andria's heart was beating so hard she feared it might explode. They must have been standing there entangled for quite some time, she wasn't sure. She was too afraid to speak, not knowing if the sudden sound would break the magic of the moment; make him realize what it was he was doing. Regret it.

Moments passed.

"I thin…" she began to say only for him to silence her with a kiss.

* * *

><p><em>A few months after that morning…<em>

"But I never get to attend _anything_! It isn't fair, mother!"

Gwen sighed, clearly having had enough of her son's tantrum.

"Silence, Aidan! This is not a manner of conduct suited for the heir to the throne… The feast will continue until the late hours of the morning and it's no place for an eight-year old boy…"

"Nine! I am almost nine!" he interrupted.

"Fine. Nine. Still not going to the feast tomorrow…" said Arthur. The little prince frowned dramatically and dropped his gaze to the floor. The King had spoken.

They continued their way through the corridors silently.

It was late in the evening and the Royal Family of Camelot was retiring for the night, after having their dinner in the small dining hall. It was there that King Arthur had announced to his son that he was to be left out of the following night's celebrations. They hadn't stopped arguing with the boy from that moment on.

Aidan was practically at the verge of tears, something unacceptable for a prince. _It is so unfair…_

"But it's Uncle Merlin's _wedding_, father! Why can't you make an exception _just_ for tomorrow night?" he continued after holding for a few minutes.

"You are going to the ceremony and you will be congratulating Merlin and Andria there. End of discussion."

The finality of his father's words made Aidan's pace falter. He stopped for a moment, leaving his parents a few feet ahead of him, and crossed his arms in front of his chest.

It wasn't fair. He was Uncle Merlin's favorite person in the world, he had told him that himself! It would be a betrayal for him not to be there, in the 'happiest moment' of his Uncle's life –as mother liked to refer to the _wedding_-. Perhaps he could sneak in after his nurse had fallen asleep. _Hmm_…

Pondering how he could slip some sleeping potion –_slip some sleep, ha!-_ to his unfortunate nurse –_I am too old for nurses anyway, I am a man now!-_ Aidan began pacing again, his face kept grumpily down, following a few steps behind his parents.

They were about to turn for the Royal chambers, when he heard his mother's surprised scream and he immediately tensed, alarmed for the safety of his mother and father.

What happened next would for many years to come remain a mystery to the young princeling.

"Aidan, don't look!" he heard his mother distressed shout and of course turned to see what all the fuss was about.

It took him a moment to take in the scene unfolding before his eyes. There, in front of his mother and father, stood Uncle Merlin, dressed in his favorite night shirt, though looking more disheveled than usual, with Lady Andria, who was also in her night garments. Aidan blushed fiercely. He wasn't supposed to look at a Lady in her undergarments.

"S-sorry, mother…" he stuttered, and turned around appropriately.

He could hear his father was now fully laughing, while his mother had come to guide him away, towards his room, using another route.

"Couldn't wait until tomorrow night, could you, _Mer_lin? My poor son will probably be traumatized after this… I honestly am _shocked_ with your behavior! Not yours, my dear Andria. You look lovely by the way…"

"Arthur!" the queen chastised while she grabbed Aidan's arm and forced him away. "Stop teasing the poor souls!"

He managed to hear his Uncle Merlin mumble something, but soon the prince and the Queen were too far away to make out what they were saying. Aidan still felt rather perplexed by the whole situation, but was pretty sure there had to be a logical explanation to this entire debacle.

"Mother?" he dared ask, as soon as they had reached his chambers.

Gwen stared at him, like she was suddenly scared of what he might say.

_Odd_.

"Why was Father angry with uncle Merlin? And why had uncle's face gone red? Did he felt bad for Lady Andria being seen with her undergarments?" he still flushed slightly, even only by mentioning something forbidden like that.

The queen looked very much alarmed and simultaneously very, _very_ much amused.

"He isn't angry with him, Aidan. Let's just say he was mildly scolding him for being too impatient concerning certain… matters. I'm afraid it is one of the things you have to be a grown up to really understand, love," She said sweetly.

Of course Aidan felt very disappointed upon hearing that. From his personal experience, no one told him about grown-up matters. No one except Uncle Merlin, that is. And for some reason, the little prince had a feeling his uncle wouldn't want to explain this particular situation to him.

_Well, what can you do…_

His mother seemed a lot more relaxed now. She went to the cupboard to retrieve his night shirt and returned to start helping him get ready for sleep.

After she was finished, she went to pour him some warm milk from the pitcher left on the table.

"I hope father doesn't scold him too harshly. Poor uncle… He hadn't even tied the laces of his breaches. And in front of a lady no less… He must feel so ashamed."

The pitcher fell from her hands, shuttering into hundred little pieces.

* * *

><p>Arthur made it to his son's rooms a good quarter of an hour later. When he entered, he met with Gwen, who was sitting in a chair by the fireplace, holding her unfinished embroidery in one hand and gesturing for him to be silent with the other.<p>

He practically tiptoed to her.

"Is he asleep?" he asked in a hushed voice.

"I think… What happened with the… _lovebirds_?" she said, keeping her voice down, while her eyes were full of mirth.

"Oh, it was _extraordinary_… I have to admit, in the end even _I_ felt sorry for the poor man… Andria was _shaking_ from embarrassment…"

They shared a moment of stifled laughter in expense of their friends. Gwen recovered first.

"Really, Arthur. You should be ashamed of yourself."

"Me? He was the one trying to do you-know-what in the middle of the corridor! Where anyone could pass and see! He really _is_ an idiot… Did Aidan mention anything about it? He must have a lot of questions…" he stopped upon hearing a light shuffling from behind him.

Turning around, he saw his son wrapped in his blanket standing in front of the door to his inner bedroom. The boy looked dazed and solemn.

"I can't sleep, father…" he let out a deep sigh.

Gwen gave him a shove before he had a chance to respond to the boy.

"Go. Tell your son a story… Take your time as well, I'm going to try and calm down Andria, make sure she doesn't call off the wedding tomorrow," she said, and after shooting him an accusing glare she made her way out of the prince's chambers.

Aidan climbed on his bed and quickly got under the duvet. Arthur lay beside him, his shoulder providing a soft pillow for the boy to rest his head.

"What do you want to hear tonight?" he asked, keeping his voice low and calm. "Do you want me to tell you about the time I had to save your mother from the bandits? It was more than ten years ago I think…" he started, getting into his story-telling mode.

"No, you told me that last week. I want something different…" Aidan interrupted. "Magic. Can you tell me a story about magic, father?" he asked in a small voice. Arthur could tell he was starting to fall asleep.

"Of course I can," he felt the boy relax in his arms. "I'm going to tell you a story the likes of which no one has ever heard before. It is a story about dragons and griffons, armies of immortals and evil sorceresses.

A tale of legendary warlocks."

**The End**

* * *

><p><strong>That's it! It is over… I want to thank my beta, Arwyn-t, for being so patient with me and for loving this story as much as I do. <strong>

**And of course all of you, my dear readers, who have supported me and the fic all this time!**

**Leave a review if you liked it, it would be awesome if it makes it to 100 reviews! It's your last chance to make me feel loved :D**


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